It's Cold in My Head
by Dinogeek
Summary: Jack has been captured. And not just by anybody- by Hate, who's looking to pick up where Pitch Black left off. The Guardians stand in his way, but one down and scared for their friend, they need to get Jack back before they can stop Hate- and before they lose him to himself.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So yeah, this is my first ever attempt at writing a RotG story, so hopefully it's not terrible. I saw the movie and Jack Frost is freaking adorable and therefore I must do awful things to him because of reasons that probably have a psychological basis but you know what I don't care. I love it. And I hope you do to. :) Reviews are very much welcome and will be responded to, so that's that, and enjoy! Have the next chapter up as soon as possible. ^-^**

* * *

Everyone noticed when it stopped snowing. It just happened one day, out of nowhere. It got cold, sure, but it just wasn't the same. Something was… different, wrong. Something was missing. The other Guardians noticed, of course, and they were all at the Pole before North even needed to call them.

"Where could he have gone?" Bunny asked in exasperation. "It's January; he's usually bouncing around North America like a Ping-Pong ball."

"I do not know," North responded, "but something is wrong. He should have been here by now. And he should have been making snow." In truth, none of the other Guardians had seen Jack for a while. It was winter, after all, and he had a lot to do; besides, the boy came and went as he pleased, no one could stop him even if they tried (and it only took once to realize that you didn't want to). But still, it had been too long.

"He stopped making snow the day before yesterday; where could he be all this time?" Tooth sounded worried; her mothering instinct was kicking in strong.

"I don't know, but we will find out," North responded. He drew himself up to his rather considerable full height. "Tooth, have all your fairies search for him; I will send out the yetis." Suddenly Sandy flashed a picture of a full moon over his head and pointed towards the skylight. The Man in the Moon was sending them a message.

"D'you think he knows where Jack is?" Bunny asked.

"He must," North replied, "or at least what has happened to him." They gathered around the patch of light, waiting to see what Manny had to tell them. A figure emerged, carrying a tall hooked staff. "Jack," North muttered, glancing at the others. Suddenly a sheet of darkness covered him, swirled together tightly, and then vanished; Jack had vanished with it.

The Guardians looked at each other; everyone was thinking the same thing but no one wanted to say it. Finally, Bunny growled, "Someone took him." He looked at the others; he did a good job of pretending he didn't care about Jack but everyone who knew him knew it wasn't true. North nodded slowly.

"Yes, but the question is, who?"

"Oh, let's see, who do we know who's got a personal grudge against Jack and lives in darkness?" Bunny retorted. Sandy looked at him with concern, a sand image of Pitch Black floating over his head. "Exactly; I say we go and shake him by his ankles until he tells us what he's done with Jack."

"Sandy and I will go have a talk with pitch," North broke in. "You go with Tooth to where Jack was last. See if there is any sign of what happened." Bunny clearly disagreed with him, but (ever so reluctantly) obeyed North's order. He and Tooth sped off, taking one of Bunny's warrens to northern Saskatchewan. Jack had been making a rather interesting snow storm until he had abruptly vanished, and that was as good a place to start as any.

* * *

"Well, hello, Sanderson, I wasn't expecting to see you here so soon," Pitch drawled. "And North, too! So, why have I suddenly become so lucky?"

"No wasting time, Pitch," North growled as he and Sandy strode up. It hadn't been hard to find Pitch's lair, not with Sandy looking for him. Somehow, the spirit who made dreams always seemed to know where to find the spirit who made nightmares. "Where is Jack?" Pitch raised an eyebrow.

"How should I know where the boy's run off to? Why don't you just follow the blasted snow?"

"He is missing," North retorted. "Not just missing; someone has taken him."

"And you think it was me, is that it? Well, as much as I really would _love_ to say otherwise, I had nothing to do with it. He must have gotten on someone else's bad side this time." Sandy glared at the nightmare spirit and North looked fit to kill. Pitch's attitude needed a little adjusting, and he was getting severely tempted to call Bunny in to do it.

"Pitch, give me a straight answer or I will let Bunny come down here. You are lucky I kept him away this time." The deadly serious tone in North's voice convinced Pitch that he was not in fact lying- not even a little tiny bit. The nightmare spirit sighed.

"I don't know; contrary to what you might believe, I don't have a hand in everything that goes wrong." Seeing the look on the Guardians' faces, he backtracked quickly. "Alright, alright, I'll ask around, will that do for you? Just give me a minute." He turned abruptly and swept off to some corner of his lair, vanishing from sight. Sandy looked at North, and sand image of Pitch, an open door, and a question mark flashing overhead. North shook his head.

"No, I do not think he will leave; he knows that we will _all_ come looking for him otherwise." About five minutes passed before Pitch returned, face giving away nothing. Finally, Sandy flashed a question mark over his head, giving Pitch a pointed look. Pitch scowled back.

"Well, I don't know where he is, but I can tell you who took him."

"Who?" North asked shortly.

"You're not going to like it…"

* * *

Jack opened his eyes slowly and groaned. It hurt; he couldn't even be more specific than that because _everything_ hurt. He eased himself into a sitting position and hazily took in his surroundings: one room (a little on the microscopic side) with bare walls and one door. No furniture, and the only illumination came from a small slit near the ceiling that let in distilled sunlight. All in all, not a friendly place, and not one he expected to be owned by a very friendly person. But the question was, who was that unfriendly person? Jack racked his brain, trying to remember what had happened. He'd been in… Saskatchewan, that was it, working on a good snow day for the kids there.

The next thing he remembered was being knocked out of the air and hitting the ground hard, all the breath driven out of his body. Then, something leapt, pinning him to the ground until he could no longer move. All he remembered after that was darkness. He looked around. His staff was gone, obviously; whoever had knocked him out sure wasn't stupid enough to throw that in there with him.

Sleep, or rather unconsciousness, was pulling at the back of his mind and he knew he couldn't stay awake much longer. It was pointless anyway- he had no way to escape, no knowledge of where he was, and no clue who had taken him or why. All in all, it was big trouble, and he couldn't help a clenching feeling in his gut as he thought of it. He finally gave up and fell back into unconsciousness, but before he did, he could have sworn that he heard the door open, and his captor come in.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Holy toledos, you guys are amazing. 8D Thank you so much for all your follows and reviews and favorites. I sincerely hope I can keep living up that standard. :) And also to Em, yeah, I pretty much just picked Saskatchewan because I love saying it and I know it gets a lot of snow. XD I have a friend from Wyoming who always talks about how they never got snow days there either, so she can sympathize. As with chapter one, reviews are most welcome and I promise to respond to them and I really hope that y'all enjoy this chapter as much as the first. ^-^**

* * *

"What do you mean, Hate has taken him?" North growled. Pitch sighed heavily.

"I mean that Hate has taken him; it's reasonably straightforward, I should think. And before you can ask, no, I still do not know where to find him." Sandy arched an eyebrow and made an image of two people shaking hands over his head. Pitch scowled.

"We _were _friends once upon a time, but we had a falling-out after the Plague. Haven't spoken to him since. He's not a very pleasant person, you know…" North fixed his glare on Pitch, but he could feel in his belly that the nightmare spirit was telling the truth. It put them in an even worse spot.

Had Pitch taken Jack, they knew that they could fight him, and most importantly, win. But Hate was a whole other ball game. No doubt he had a plan in mind, but until they knew they couldn't stop him- or get Jack back. He turned to Sandy and nodded shortly; the other spirit nodded back.

"Okay Pitch, we believe you." They turned to leave but the nightmare spirit called after them,

"I know you're going to ignore me, but if I were you, I would not take Hate on."

"You are right," North called without looking back. "We are going to ignore you."

* * *

Bunny and Tooth had been scouring the woods for well over an hour and had yet to find any trace of the missing winter spirit. Nothing but fields of untouched snow and intricate patterns of ice and frost. "Kid can do some nice work," Bunny muttered as they moved along. "But none of this is helping us."

"Let's go to the edge of the snow," Tooth suggested, flitting along beside him. "That's where he was last; you know he would have put up a fight. If there's any sign of it, it'll be there." They hurried to the very edge of the snow, looking methodically from one end to the other, until they found what they were looking for. They froze, shocked.

It was absolute chaos. Patches of snow had been melted, scorch marks searing the earth below them, and more than a few trees had been knocked to the ground. Their freshly broken trunks poked up out of the drift and the remainders of them lay where they had crashed to the ground. Bunny's heart sank down to his feet when he saw Jack's staff, which never left his hands, tossed aside, half buried in snow.

Next to it was the largest scorch mark of all, intertwined with solid ice. In the ash, they could see a footprint, Jack's size. There was nothing beyond that. Tooth scanned anxiously, hoping to spot some further sign, while Bunny picked up the staff. It was cold, much like its owner, and somehow it just seemed so utterly _wrong _to see it without it being held in Jack's hands. Tooth buzzed back over.

"I can't find anything else," she said quietly. Bunny sighed and tapped his foot twice, opening up a warren.

"Let's go back to the Pole. I swear, when I find whoever did this they're gonna regret ever thinking about hurting him." He and Tooth gave one last look around and then left, the warren closing behind them and leaving behind a small yellow flower, in the middle of a battlefield.

* * *

"What do you mean it wasn't Pitch?" Bunny growled at North. "If it wasn't him, then who did?"

"It was not Pitch," North responded. "It was Hate who took Jack." The other two Guardians looked stunned.

"Hate?" Tooth exclaimed. "But I thought we got rid of him after the Plague?" Bunny scowled.

"Yeah, but we also figured we'd knocked out Pitch too, and that didn't turn out to be true." The Guardians fell silent, each in their own little world, worried for their friend. Jack was in the hands of a dangerous enemy, one even more dangerous than Pitch, and there was nothing they could do.

"Where did you find his staff?" North finally broke the somber silence.

"Up in Saskatchewan; you were right, mate. That was where they took him. He put up one hell of a fight, though. There were ice blasts and scorch marks all over the place." Sandy looked up suddenly, a small golden flame dancing over his head next to a question mark.

"You know what made those, Sandy?" Tooth asked excitedly. Sandy nodded and then another picture flashed over his head. Even in the glowing golden sand, it was a frightening picture. Vaguely shaped like yetis, but slightly smaller, they danced with flames and had their mouths open in roars.

"Firelings," North muttered. "Hate's servants; he must have sent them out to take Jack."

"Hang on a minute," Bunny interrupted, "if these things are made of fire, they'll leave a trail, won't they?" He looked at North, who shrugged.

"It is possible, but it would be hard to follow. They are careful about where they go."

"But still, it gives us a chance, doesn't it? If we can track them they'll lead us to Jack. I say we go for it." He looked around at the others. Tooth agreed, and after mulling it over, Sandy nodded his head and flashed a thumbs-up sign. North thought it over.

"I think you are right, Bunny. We must follow the Firelings. It is our only chance. Arm yourselves, everyone, and meet me back here in an hour." It took well less than an hour before they had all assembled back in the globe room, raring to go.

"What on earth is that?" Bunny asked North, gesturing to the odd-looking pack the Russian had on.

"This is little invention of mine," North responded with a grim smile. "Hopefully to make the Firelings quite uncomfortable. I plan on having a chance to use it." He didn't elaborate any further, instead heading for the sleigh. "Come on," he called. "This is the quickest way." The others hurried off after him, although Bunny looked decidedly green at the thought of another sleigh ride. Or perhaps orange was more the color. One flight (and several minutes of staring deliberately at nothing on Bunny's part) later, the sleigh landed in Saskatchewan.

"Okay," Tooth said, "I've got the fairies checking things out from the air; they'll tell us if they spot anything."

"Good," North responded. "Now let us get to work. We have a long way to go."

* * *

"It's time to wake up, Jack Frost. Now." Jack felt the voice more than he heard it, cutting through the unconsciousness like a knife. Slowly, he forced his eyes to open, fighting to keep them that way both because of exhaustion and because he didn't really want to see who was standing over him. Jack pushed himself into a sitting position with a groan and he heard his captor laugh.

"If you hadn't put up such a fight you wouldn't be so sore right now."

"Oh, so you're saying it's my fault?" Jack shot back sarcastically, eyes still focusing in the now dark room. He could see enough to watch the smirk slide off the face of the man standing in the doorway.

"You're a funny one, Jack; if I were you I would shut up." Jack still couldn't quite see clearly, but he could certainly tell when the Firelings came into the room, flickering like living torches. "Now, you and I have some things to discuss."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: And, commence the shit getting real, if you'll pardon the expression. O.o Once again I would just like to say that you guys have absolutely blown me away. I've only uploaded two chapters and you've already given me multiple reviews and follows and even some favs for which I am very grateful, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the previous two. Also, if you want to know more specifically what Hate looks like, think... Palpatine-esqe. But not sounding like he's smoked unfiltereds for five decades. ^-^**

* * *

Jack swallowed down his fear. His vision had finally cleared and now he could see the spirit standing in front of him: tall and skeletal, resembling a wrinkled old man with age-whitened hair, he leaned over Jack. The younger spirit's pride drove him into a standing position, head swimming, but he maintained it defiantly. The silence between them stretched to the breaking point before Jack finally gave in.

"Who are you?" The old man laughed.

"I'm Hate, Jack. Now let's lay some ground rules, shall we? These," he gestured to the flaming yeti-like creatures behind him, "are my Firelings. They obey me, and no one else. I know you're probably thinking about escaping right now, so let me offer this to dissuade you: you're a winter spirit. Should you try to escape, I might just decide to find out how much heat a winter spirit can take."

The temperature in the room edged up a few degrees, reinforcing Hate's point. The additional heat made Jack's head swim even worse, but he remained on his feet. Hate chuckled quietly.

"Well, you do have willpower don't you, Jack Frost? We'll see how long that lasts you, though." Jack remained silent. "What, do you not have any more questions?"

"What are you planning?" Hate laughed coldly.

"I'm planning on taking over the Earth, Jack, but first I've got to get the Guardians out of the way and I've decided to start with you. You're their weak spot, you see; and if you can find the weak spot it's just a simple matter of forcing your way through." He snapped his fingers and the Firelings retreated, the room temperature lowering back to what is was.

"But I'll be nice," he continued, seeming to have to twist his tongue around the word, "and let you have a few more hours to get your head back. But after that…" He trailed off, not really needing to finish his threat. He turned and left without a backward glance, the door slamming shut behind him.

Jack breathed out in relief, but it was short lived. It would be an exaggeration to say that there was nothing on his side in this situation. He couldn't try to escape, or he'd be turned into a kebab, and the alternative was being tortured by hate personified. The only light was that the other Guardians would know he was missing by now, and they would be looking for him. He could only hope they got there before Hate found his way to force through the weak spot.

* * *

It took them hours of searching, but they finally picked up the trail of the Firelings who had taken Jack. They tracked them to the edge of the Pacific Ocean, but once they hit the coast they seemed to vanish into the water. The trail was dead.

"How are we going to find them now?" Tooth cried out. "They could be anywhere out there."

"We will find a way," North told her, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. "We will not give up, not until we have Jack back. There must be someone who can track Hate down." Sandy waved, gesturing for their attention, and they looked at him. He flashed a heart over his head. "Ah…" North nodded in understanding.

"What is it?" Bunny asked.

"If we are trying to find Hate, why do we not ask Love?" It took them a few more precious hours to find out where Love was; they found her sitting calmly on a hilltop in the rainforest. She stood and smiled at them as they approached. She was small and bird-like, fragile and tough all at once.

"Good evening; it's nice to see the Guardians." Then, as she scanned over them, she frowned. "But you're missing one. Where is Jack Frost?"

"That is what we wish to know," North told her. "Hate has taken him. We followed their trail and tracked his Firelings to the edge of the Pacific but we can't find them. Sandy thought that you might be able to help us." Love bit her lip.

"I will do my best. He will be strongest at his lair, and where he is strongest, I am weakest. But it won't be quick. I have to search the whole ocean; I will find it, though. Wait here." She turned and vanished, leaving nothing behind her but a warm breeze.

* * *

Well, that was one thing you had to admit about Hate, Jack thought; he really did keep his word. But he kept it to the bare minimum. The minute Jack could stand up straight again, he was back. This time, Hate was the one who broke the silence that stretched between them.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again- you've got good strength of will. Let's see how long it can last, shall we?" He snapped his fingers once more and a Fireling moved into the room. "I've got a little game for you to play. For every minute you stay standing, the temperature of this room will rise one degree. If you sit down, you lose." Jack clenched his jaw.

"Why are you doing this?" Hate gave his cold laugh again.

"Because I am going to break you, Jack; and then I will let the other Guardians find you, and I will break them too. Let the game begin." Jack stamped down his fear as the room seemed to constrict. No, no, he _couldn't _give up- he _wouldn't_ give up. He could last this out.

And so he waited. A minute passed, and the room got warmer. And then another, and then another, until it got so hot that Jack was forced to back up against the wall to support himself. But still he waited, determined not to sit. By the time he could feel his mind buzzing it had been almost thirty minutes; the room hadn't been below sixty to start with. He knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer, but he held out as long as he could.

Finally, though, the heat got too much for the winter spirit; his vision blurred, his head swam, and he knew that in a few seconds he would pass out. He staved it off just long enough that he could make sure he fell. After all, he would only lose if he sat. He toppled over sideways and the world turned black.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hooray for plot development! I hope y'all enjoy this chapter and have a great weekend and all sorts of wonderful things. :) I have to go get a passport and study for a chemistry test. Not as much fun... Yet again, my wondered and astonished thanks to all the people who favorited (I've got FAVORITES) and followed and reviewed. You are all amazing. Not like Hate, who is a total douche. ^-^**

* * *

Jack woke up stiff and sore from his fall to see Hate watching him from the doorway. He gave the closest he could to a laugh. "I won- I didn't sit down." Somehow Jack didn't think Hate would count the victory for his side, though. Hate's face twitched and Jack decided to press his momentum- probably (no, definitely) a bad decision, but it wasn't like his situation could get any worse.

"Thought it'd be easier than this, didn't you? Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not planning on _breaking_ any time soon." The scathing tone in his voice left no question as to what he thought about that idea.

"Oh really?" Jack smiled to himself- could tell he'd hit a nerve by the tone of Hate's voice. "And just what do you think is going to happen? That you'll be rescued? The Guardians managed before you came along and they'll manage after. Why risk their lives for _you_?"

Jack flinched a little, but his tone remained defiant. "We'll see who's right, won't we?" Hate smiled sadistically. He'd seen Jack flinch and noticed the nearly invisible spark of pain in his eyes.

"We will; but until then, you are mine. I would try to get some sleep if I were you. You've got a long few days ahead of you." He turned and swept out the door. It slammed shut behind him, jarring the winter spirit slightly.

In his solitude, Jack's mind turned over what Hate had said. _He's just trying to get a rise out of you,_ he reminded himself sternly; _you _know _he's lying to you. _He could feel Hate's pull on his mind. It was like when he'd gone into Pitch's lair, but worse. He didn't know what his mind was going to turn against, and he didn't want to, but he knew it would be something. It was just a question of what. And how long he could resist the pull.

He curled up on the floor, trying in vain to get some rest. His captor was right- he did have a long few days ahead of him.

* * *

Love hadn't even been back for ten seconds before the other Guardians were up. "Did you find him?" North asked. She nodded.

"It took me a while; he's harder to detect where there are no people for him to influence. I tracked him to an island about a hundred miles south of the Aleutians. There're a few small buildings there, but it couldn't be more than a mile wide in any direction."

"How can we get there?" Bunny asked.

"Don't rush," Love warned. "Hate is bound to find out you're coming. Do you know how to destroy a Fireling?" They all shook their heads. "That's because no one has ever managed it before. You can't just splash them with water; that will get rid of them for a brief time but not nearly forever."

"A brief time is all we need to get Jack," North rumbled.

"But what happens when they come after you again?" she reproached him. "Because they will. Hate has a plan, I can guarantee that. He wouldn't have taken Jack if he didn't. I'm not saying don't go after him, but I am saying be careful. Don't assume anything."

The Guardians nodded in agreement. Love was right; they had to tread carefully or they would all be in trouble.

"What do you think Hate is planning?" Tooth asked to no one in particular.

"I don't know," Bunny answered. "Chaos, despair, and destruction are usually his M.O."

"Yes, but there is something different about this," North responded. "Why take Jack? He must be up to something bigger." They were interrupted by Sandy, who flashed a clock over his head. _We don't have the time. _"Sandy is right," North said. "We will find out what Hate's plan is eventually, but first we will get Jack back."

"So how are we going to attack Hate?" Tooth asked. "Love has already said no one's ever managed to destroy a Fireling before, and he'll have all of them guarding his island."

"True, but we can get rid of them for a while- long enough to get Jack and leave," Bunny responded. "Although how we're gonna get enough water to put out every Fireling on the island is a bit of a mystery." North smiled.

"Ah, but that is what this is for," he said, pointing to the pack that Bunny and the others had spotted earlier. "It carries water, like a portable fire hydrant. A lot of water." The group fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts. They knew they were at a serious disadvantage- outnumbered and unable to get rid of their enemy permanently.

But if you were to ask them, not one would have said they would think about turning back. Jack was one of them, and more than that, he was their friend. They weren't going to leave him, no matter what. They could deal with Hate's plan when it came. Right now, they had better things to do.

* * *

Hate did know they were coming, in fact; he had sensed it when Love came looking for him and he knew that she wasn't after a friendly chat. She was looking for him to draw the Guardians. His eyes narrowed. He had to get more time. He needed to delay them, and he knew just how to do it. With a quick, imperious gesture, he summoned one of the Firelings to his side.

"I want you to find a town," he told it quietly, "any town, really. And then I want you to destroy it." He knew that would distract them, and that was all he needed. The Fireling left obediently, not really caring where it headed, and Hate leaned back, confidence growing. Apart from this one small flaw, his plan was working perfectly. He wouldn't run from the Guardians, no; that was never what he had intended to do.

He _wanted _the Guardians to come to him. In his domain, with one of their own as his prisoner, there would be no way they could win the fight. The only thing that still worried him was the time factor. The winter spirit had proved harder to crack than Hate had anticipated, and the Guardians were already on their way. He would have to work fast if he wanted his plan to succeed.

He nodded to himself and put the matter out of his mind. His powerful magic was beginning to pull on the boy's mind, and soon the evidence would be tangible. There were other ways to break someone. He would find one that would work on Jack Frost, he just had to be patient. After all, it wasn't as though the boy was going anywhere. No, his plan would work out just fine.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Holy tamoles. You lot are unbelievably cool. I was intending to post this yesterday but then a wild chemistry exam appeared and it was a long duel but I finally cut down the beast. My apologies. Just a random little side note before we get to the chapter, I've posted a poll on my profile just for funsies. It's a rather... unusual question but I figured I'd ask it anyways. Also, I'm planning on starting a drabble series, the first of which I'm hoping to post Friday. And now, to the story. As usual, reviews are incredibly helpful and appreciated and I answer all of them. ^-^**

* * *

One of the irritating things about Hate, Jack had decided, was that he didn't bother knocking. He just pounded the door open and swept in like he owned the place-which of course he did. "What do you hate, Jack Frost?"

"Old men who use me as a pawn," Jack responded, giving Hate the coldest look he could muster. His anger was growing within him. He could feel it, bubbling up his chest, and knew it was a side effect of where he was. Hate could move faster than Jack had anticipated. He grabbed the winter spirit by the collar, pulling him forward.

"Most amusing, but I would like a serious answer. What do you hate?" Jack glared at him then shrugged.

"Nothing I can think of."

"Really?" Hate's was the tone of voice that clearly indicated he didn't believe him. "Not even Pitch Black? He tried to destroy you, after all. He's done nothing less than what I have. Do you hate him?"

"No." It was the truth; Jack had been eager to get rid of the nightmare spirit and certainly none too fond of him but he didn't hate Pitch. The old spirit got a look of mock surprise.

"And why is that?" He still held Jack by the collar, the shorter spirit's feet barely touching the ground by his tiptoes. Jack remained silent. He wasn't going to give Hate anything else to work with. The older spirit smirked. "Playing silent? Oh well, I don't need you to speak anyway- I just need you to wait. My magic is sinking in, I can see it in your eyes. The hatred is growing, and I know what it will turn against."

He let Jack go, and the winter spirit backed up, frost following his footsteps. "You see, everyone hates something, and I know what you hate. All I have to do is bide my time until your hatred overwhelms you- and it will- and then I will throw you out for the other Guardians to find." He turned away, but then stopped and looked back.

"Oh, and I just thought you might want to know, your friends aren't going to be able to make it for a while." He smirked evilly. "They were getting a little too close for comfort, you see, so I sent one or two of my Firelings out to destroy a small town somewhere. All those suffering children, the Guardians won't be able to leave them to their fate."

Jack felt sick, and furious, but there was nothing he could do as Hate left, calling behind him, "So you're in for the long haul, as they say. And I'm afraid there's nothing on your side." The door shut behind him, a sound that Jack was all too tired of hearing. He leaned against the wall and sank down, squeezing his eyes shut tight and fighting down nausea.

He knew what Jack hated, that's what Hate had said. Trouble was, Jack didn't know- or rather, he knew deep down and far below, but didn't want to acknowledge it. Hate had also said that his magic was starting to work already. Well, that much Jack could tell for sure. Boiling anger was burning in his chest, like a weapon without a target.

And now there was a town out there, being destroyed for no better reason than that it was convenient. _And all because of you,_ a voice hissed inside his head. _If you hadn't been so weak and gotten captured nothing would be wrong right now. _

"Shut up," Jack muttered to himself. "You're wrong; it's all Hate's fault. He's the one who started it."

_And he wouldn't have gotten the chance if you hadn't lost, _the voice returned. It sounded eerily like his own, but softer and with a hard edge.

"Who are you?" Jack shot out angrily. "Who are you? Answer me!" The voice was maddeningly silent, but mocking laughter echoed from the other side of the door.

"Don't you know what that is, Jack?" Hate told him, voice muffled by the door but still clear. "That's what you hate, and the longer you are here the more your mind will turn against it. What you hate the most, Jack Frost, is yourself."

Hate laughed one more time and left him on his own. Jack stared off into the distance, trying to deny what Hate had said, but the dark magic was pulling at him stronger than ever and he couldn't. He groaned and put his head down on his knees, sending a silent thought out to his friends: _p__lease, find me soon. _

* * *

Hate smiled to himself; it was a look that would send a shiver down anybody else's spine. The plan was working perfectly. All it took was a few seconds of manipulation and he had his entry ticket into the boy's head. The winter spirit had spent three hundred years completely alone, disliked by most everyone who met him, and after so long it had worn his self-worth down to almost nothing.

One simple push in the right direction and Jack Frost's hatred had something to be directed at- Jack Frost himself. Oh, this would make it _especially _satisfying when he finally shattered the boy and then turned him over to the Guardians.

Hate knew what few people did: the best weapon to attack somebody with was themselves. In the back of his mind, he realized that even his little distraction wouldn't keep the Guardians away forever- they would be at the island, and soon. But still, it didn't really worry him. All he needed was a couple more days to let the magic do its work fully.

A couple more days and then, with the Guardians reeling from their loss, Hate could move on unchallenged. There would be no one to stop him with them out of the way. A couple more days and Jack Frost would no longer exist.

* * *

"We've got trouble, mate," Bunny growled. "A pair of Firelings just got spotted outside a town in New York."

"Why would they be going there?" Tooth asked.

"It is a distraction for us," North rumbled. "Hate has found out we are coming and wishes to delay us. No doubt his Firelings will try to destroy the town. He knows we cannot let that happen." Sandy held up a picture over his head, a Fireling with a big X through it and a frighteningly determined look on his normally cheerful face.

"We've got to hurry," Tooth said. "The more time it takes us to get rid of those Firelings the more time Hate will have Jack. I wish we could split up into teams, but that would only make us easier to beat."

"Hey, at least it'll make for good practice when we meet the island full of them," Bunny joked grimly, fingering his boomerangs. They'd all been wanting to use their weapons since Jack was kidnapped, and now it looked like they were going to get the chance.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Booyah, new chapter. I just want to repeat that you guys have astounded me. I've already got over fifty follows and a bunch of favorites and twenty-something reviews and I LOVE YOU ALL. So, because I love you, here's more Jack whump and a nice long fight scene. As per usual, reviews are incredibly appreciated and will be answered. Enjoy the chapter! ^-^**

* * *

Not-Jack mocked him coldly. _Why should your 'friends' waste their time finding you? _he laughed.

"Because they're my family," Jack growled. "So shut up, because you don't know anything about them!" Not-Jack's voice seemed to swirl around him like an invisible fog, still mocking him.

_Family? You think _they're _your family? You don't HAVE a family, Jack Frost. No one's ever cared about you, not for 300 years. So you're a Guardian, big deal; it's not like it's going to change anything. If they come get you it's only because they need your help, not because they care about you._

"Shut the hell up!" Jack yelled. "I'm not going to give into you, not ever- so you can just quit trying!" He slumped against the wall, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples. They would come for him, he knew they would. His conviction was still strong, but deep down inside he knew it would begin to waver soon. He really needed the others to come for him. Not-Jack laughed behind him.

_Well, you can say that all you like, but we'll see who's right soon enough. I'm afraid you're in for a disappointment._

Jack groaned, willing Not-Jack's voice out of his head. He lay on his back, facing the wall, until an uneasy sleep claimed him.

* * *

"Bunny! To your left!" Tooth yelled just in time. Bunny hit the deck as a blast of fire split the air where his head was not three seconds ago. They'd caught up with the Firelings just before they got to the town and started the fight before they could get any closer. Bunny jumped back up and flung one of his boomerangs towards the offending Fireling. It sliced through the air and caught the creature in the right shoulder, knocking it off balance.

"North, do it now!" Bunny hollered over the chaos. "I hope this thing of yours bloody works!" North swung around and pulled the handle on his pack. A jet of nearly-freezing water shot out of the spout and doused the Fireling. Before he could soak it completely though, the second Fireling came at him from the side. Sandy caught it in his whips, pulling its arms up so North could get out of the way.

The Fireling he'd partially soaked stumbled like a drunk, listing to the side while half if it smoldered rather than burned. North's invention appeared to work, but it would have been better if they'd gotten to see it put the damned thing out entirely. There was a slight reprieve in the battle, North and Bunny standing next to each other trying to catch their breath.

"I can see why Hate uses these buggers," Bunny grumbled. "They're difficult to take out."

"Yes," North agreed, "but now we know we can stall them. The water should be colder, I think. What we need is ice." North stopped, and his face fell as he realized what he'd just said.

"Yeah," Bunny agreed quietly. "We sure could use some ice." He pulled his arm back and launched an egg bomb at an approaching Fireling, stalling it long enough for North to finish off his work from earlier. This time, the others guarded him and gave him enough time to thoroughly soak the creature down.

They let out a collective cheer, Sandy lifting a golden thumbs-up over his head, when the Fireling toppled over, still smoking but out- for now. It would be back unless they could find a way to destroy them for good, something that no one had ever managed before. Suddenly Sandy had an idea. He attracted the others' attention and pointed to the lake. Tooth was the first to realize what he meant.

"North, Bunny, distract the other one. Sandy, help me pull this one into the lake." Sandy shook his head and indicated that she should go back to the battle. He formed a sand cloud under the comatose Fireling and threw it quite bodily and with no small amount of ill will towards the lake. It landed in the water with a resounding splash, sinking like a rock to the bottom. Sandy smiled to himself and nodded his head once, satisfied with his work.

Eventually the other Firelings would pull it out of the pond, but by then the Guardians would be long gone and the Firelings, as a result, completely uninterested in the town they were currently attempting to destroy. That was the convenient thing about the creatures- they were completely mindless. They did what Hate told them to, and if their objective became pointless they would see no reason to fulfill it.

Tooth side-swept the remaining Fireling, nothing but a blur of green and blue feathers. The normally sweet fairy could be relentless when someone she cared for was harmed, and she was showing it right now. She moved so fast that the fire didn't even singe her wings, distracting the simple-minded Fireling long enough for Bunny to strike it in the chest with a boomerang. Sandy pressed their momentum, wrapping his sand whips around its feet and pulling hard, tripping it up.

North aimed the water jet at it, but this Fireling was better prepared than its fellow and managed to persist through the soaking, sending out a blast of flame that sent the Guardians either up in the air or down on the ground. It broke through and rushed for the town, where several building were already ablaze, a result of their work before the Guardians had stopped them.

The humans didn't seem to notice the creature heading for them, or the spirits, but that wasn't too surprising. They were all adults; the children had been evacuated when the fires started spreading. The Guardians still wouldn't stop, though. They couldn't let the children lose everything they had, or even one of their parents. Besides, taking down a Fireling, even temporarily, was a group effort that they had to get the hang of before they took on a whole island full of the things.

Ahead of them, the rogue Fireling had reached the town, trying to light more places on fire, but the humans had already wet them down so much that nothing in the world could make them burn. The Guardians swept in while it was distracted, pulling the same group maneuver they'd done earlier, and after a few more minutes of solid fighting they had dispatched it as they had the first, Sandy hefting it towards the lake like a major-league pitcher.

As it sank to the bottom with its fellow, the Guardians put away their weapons and looked at each other, attempting to regain their capacity to breath properly. "Well," Bunny said, "that was... a learning experience."

"Yes," North agreed, then stood up straight. They looked around; most of the town had been saved, but there were several building that were too far gone to save. They sighed heavily, angry at the destruction that had been done. "Yes that was. And now, I believe, is the time to take the full exam."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: It's cliffhanger time! Dontcha love it? XD But don't worry, chapter eight is on its way. But right now Dinogeek's brain is a little on the 'fried' side so she should probably go to sleep. You know what would be a wonderful present to wake up to? Some reviews. They are lovely, lovely presents. Hint hint. ;) But anyways, enjoy the chapter!  
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**cycloneninja: Sweet baby Jesus. This will stab your feelz, revive them, and then toss them off a cliff headed towards a jagged ravine. Why, dinogeek, did you have to be such a sadist?  
**

**A/N: Just because I can. :P ^-^  
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* * *

A ripple of discomfort stirred through the other Firelings when the two in New York were put in the temporary shed. Hate noticed it, eyes narrowing as he was forced to rethink his plan yet again. Those blasted Guardians had to have something up their sleeves, there was no other way they could possibly have defeated his Firelings that fast. Not even Love had figured out how. Truth be told, Hate himself didn't know either. It was simply a pleasant side-effect of their existence.

The Guardians had access to North's magic portals, he knew, and there was no way to stall them further. He would have to step up the pace if he were to make his plan work. The boy was asleep, and currently seemed to be dreaming about nothing. Maybe it was time to change that.

* * *

Jack twitched and rolled as his dreams began to disturb him. Fire flickered up at the edges of his mind, spreading and growing until Jack's head began to swim with the heat. The fire formed a ring around him, trapping him, until he could feel it licking at the edges of his skin. He tried in vain to form a shield of ice around him, or snow, or anything at all to stop the heat, but he couldn't.

_Welcome to my home, Jack,_ Not-Jack's voice taunted him as it swam around him, hidden by the glare of the fire. _Do you like it? I suppose you thought you could get away from me while you were asleep. Well, no such luck; Pitch Black's not the only one who can spread bad dreams. _

"Go away," Jack growled as he struggled to stay on his feet. "I hate you." Not-Jack laughed.

_I know you do. That's why I'm here, after all. _Suddenly a creature lashed out of the fire, like a wolf but crouched and misshapen. Jack leapt backwards, raising his hands in defense, but the heat had drained him too much to do anything. The wolf-creature leapt, pinning Jack underneath him with a growl from low in its throat.

"No," Jack muttered fiercely. "No, you're not real. This is only a dream."

_This may be a dream,_ Not-Jack told him,_ but that doesn't mean you can't be injured in real life. The more you fight back in the dream the more your physical body is injured. But if you don't fight back, you'll die, and I can assure you that will pass through as well._

Jack held up with all his strength as the wolf-creature tried to bite at him, pushing it away from his head and neck. It scratched at his arms, and Jack flinched with the pain. He was going to keep fighting; he had to, but it was so hot. The heat was draining the willpower out of him, and the thought crossed his mind that it would really be easier to just give up, right? As if he had read Jack's thoughts (which of course he probably had), Not-Jack laughed at him again.

_Giving up again, are we, Jack? Just like after Easter, when you ran off to Antarctica. _

Not-Jack, despite his intentions, actually gave Jack the strength to keep pressing back, just to show him up. He drew up the last well of his power and froze the wolf-creature's front legs, but not before it lunged down, its strong jaws catching him on the shoulder. Jack yelled, overwhelmed by pain, and as if in sync with his yells winter magic flooded out of him, freezing the wolf-creature in its place. Not-Jack roared with anger and the fire slowly crept away.

_You've won this round, Jack Frost,_ he called from the edges of Jack's mind, _but there are many more to come. _Suddenly, Not-Jack, the wolf-creature, and the ring of fire all swept out of Jack's mind like the wind had blown them out itself. He awoke with a shuddering gasp, pain lancing through his body, especially from his shoulder.

He looked down carefully. Because of the heat, he had previously removed his hoodie, tossing it in a corner, which left him with only the plain white t-shirt he wore below. Now, that shirt was half white and half red, and Jack was bleeding from a number of cuts on his arms. Fortunately, the bite mark on his shoulder was relatively shallow, but it still hurt like nobody's business. He reckoned he was going to have some impressive bruising come tomorrow.

He shifted himself into a more comfortable position, avoiding his injured shoulder and battered arms, but no way he positioned himself relieved the pain entirely. He was honestly a little glad about that; the pain kept him awake, and he couldn't go back to sleep. Next time, he didn't know if he could find the strength to fight.

* * *

They wasted no time in going to find Hate's lair. They hopped into the sleigh (Bunny not even protesting once) and North opened a portal to the Pacific, sending them through as fast as the reindeer could move. Love had given them good directions, and the moment they emerged from the portal they could see Firelings in the distance- their destination was so close they could taste it.

"Let's get 'em," Bunny growled. The others shared nods as North wheeled the sleigh around and headed in for the island like the devil was on their heels. As they had expected, there was no element of surprise; the Firelings knew they'd been coming for a while now. Still, they hadn't expected the Guardians to enter quite this dramatically and were taken aback long enough for the Guardians to gain the upper edge. Then a long, hard fight commenced.

Tooth swept back and forth, nothing more than a blur of feathers and wings that none of the Firelings could move fast enough to touch. While she distracted them, Bunny threw his boomerangs and his egg bombs, knocking the creatures off balance while Sandy whirled his whips around their feet, pulling them out from under them. North put his new invention to good use, taking the icy water of the northern Pacific and pelting it at the Firelings one after the other.

One by one, the Firelings stumbled and fell, smoldering gently, and the Guardians formed a circle, cutting a path that moved almost painfully slow. The colder water put them out more effectively, as North had predicted, and though it seemed like an eternity they finally reached the doors of the building. Now they just had to deal with whatever they would find inside.

* * *

Jack slowly bundled his hoodie behind his head, movements careful and hesitant. He still hadn't recovered from his initial fight, and the dream fight was adding onto that in a big way. He could feel himself losing energy and going stiff, trembling from a mix of shock and blood loss. At first the commotion outside entered only vaguely into his head, a faint wonder as to what was going on, but he didn't have the energy to get up and try to see.

Then the clouds moved away and he saw part of the moon peeking in through the slit in the wall. "I could really use some help right now," he whispered, not expecting an answer. But suddenly the moon grew brighter, and for one of the few times in his three hundred plus years Jack heard the voice of the Man in the Moon speak- _your family has come for you. Have hope. _Jack felt his heart soar for the first time in days and a small smile crept onto his pained face. They were here. They had come for him. Hate was wrong.

"Thank you," he whispered before the moon was again hidden by clouds. Now he could hear the battle going on clearly, and the cards didn't seem to be falling in Hate's favor. The Firelings couldn't speak, but they could make noise, and right now they were howling with anger, and he could hear the Guardians calling to one another over the sounds.

"Watch your left, North!"

"Duck now, Tooth!"

The battle raged on until Jack could hear a crashing at the doors. Not wanting the other Guardians to see how badly he'd been injured, Jack forced himself into a sitting position long enough to slowly put his hoodie back on. He had every intention of making it as cold as possible when he got out of this place and he wanted to be ready. He could hear the fighting drawing nearer and wondered how the Guardians were finding him. But he knew he wasn't out of the woods yet. Hate was going to have a couple of parting shots up his sleeve, and Jack had a feeling he knew what one of them was going to be...

* * *

Once they were inside the building, Sandy extended a tendril of his dream sand to find the winter spirit, the golden line snaking out and leading the other Guardians to their youngest member. They went quick and dirty, dispatching Firelings as fast as they could before moving on, and followed the golden sand trail into the center of the building, more than a little apprehensive about what they would find. They held their collective breath and charged around the corner, taking out the Firelings guarding it before stopping cold.

"I'll kill him." Hate stood facing them, a nearly unconscious Jack in front of him with a knife held to the winter spirit's neck. Jack's bright blue eyes opened wide with concern, not for him but for his friends, and he looked at them all, willing them to run while they still had the chance. "Now, unless you want to see his blood spreading across the floor, lower your weapons."

"Don't! It's a trap, you guys need to run!" Jack managed to call out before the knife moves closer to his throat, cutting off all sound. The Guardians glanced at each other in a silent conference before they slowly lowered their weapons to the floor. They wouldn't risk hurting Jack, not for anything. Jack groaned, his microscopic energy sinking out of him. As he sagged towards the floor, the knife pressed against his neck, leaving a small cut that sent him jolting upright. Hate sneered at the Guardians, who stood helplessly, worried for their youngest member. Then he looked to his remaining Firelings, who had swarmed into the room.

"Kill them."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I am evil, and I revel in it. But, because only a part of me is evil, I have given you the resolution to the cliffhanger. You're welcome. XD I hope you enjoy, and as usual I do so love reviews, and I would make the note a little bit longer but I have chemistry in five minutes because FML. Anyways, y'all enjoy and I'll go try to pound molecular models into my brain for an hour. ^-^**

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At Hate's command, the Firelings began to advance towards the Guardians, who stood in a circle and got ready to fight whatever was sent their way with their hands if they had to. Hate laughed coldly as Jack struggled against his grasp. "Now," he hissed at the young spirit, "you can see them die because you couldn't save them."

The Firelings were getting closer and closer. Suddenly, Jack felt a burning pain in his chest, like someone had pressed a hot iron against his skin, and he yelled out loudly, face contorted with pain. "Jack!" the Guardians cried out, rushing towards him, only to be stopped by Firelings blocking their path. Hate forced Jack's head up.

"Look at them, Jack," he hissed again, his words cutting through the pain like a lance, "look at them die because of you." In that moment, something within the winter spirit awoke that even he hadn't known ever existed. His head shot up, eyes glowing iridescently like the submerged ice of a glacier.

"NO!" he yelled, so loud that everyone in the room stopped and turned to look. He spread his hands and ice burst out of them, a torrent that blasted over everything and turned the air into a haze. When the Guardians looked over, they saw Jack's crumpled form on the floor; Hate had vanished. They immediately seized their weapons and formed a protective circle around the frail winter spirit.

"I don't see Hate anywhere," Tooth remarked nervously.

"Bloody coward's run off somewhere," Bunny muttered. Sandy sent out a tentacle of dream sand to prod one of the Firelings on the ground. It was stone cold, as was every other one that had been exposed to the blast of winter magic. It wasn't just smoldering, it was nearly frozen. Jack had killed them. Sandy's eyes widened and he waved his arms over his head, pointing out the dead Firelings.

"How on earth…?" Bunny muttered.

"He has done it," North said with some amazement. "He has killed the Firelings." Now that they were out of the way and Hate had retreated, their concerns immediately switched over to Jack. North knelt on the ground beside him. "Jack, can you hear us? Are you awake?" Their only response was a soft groan. North swept Jack up in his broad arms and turned to the others.

"We must go to Santoff Claussen at once," he told them. "We can help Jack when we get there. For now, we must keep him comfortable. Let us go; there is no time to waste." They moved like greased lightning back to the sleigh, Tooth and Bunny carefully supporting Jack between them while Sandy guarded the back in case of an ambush. They made it back to the North Pole in record time, hurrying in and laying Jack down gently on the bed in the spare room that had been designated his.

"Jack, can you hear us?" Tooth asked him gently, smoothing his hair back from his damp forehead. "North, he's practically melting. We need to cool him down." Sandy opened a window, allowing the frigid Arctic air in, and finally Jack stirred.

"Tooth…?" he mumbled dazedly, not yet opening his eyes. "Where am I?"

"You're back at the Pole, Jack," North told him. "You gave us good scare, but we got you back." Jack gave a faint smile and mumbled his thanks. Tooth patted his shoulder and Jack winced, the bite mark zapping back into his awareness. "What is wrong, Jack?" North asked as the others looked on with concern. Suddenly Sandy's eyes widened and he pointed to Jack's right hand, which was stained with blood.

"Jack, mate, where are you hurt?" Bunny asked him with concern. Jack shifted uncomfortably and muttered something unintelligible. "What was that?"

"Under the hoodie," he repeated, more clearly this time. "Need sleep."

"I know, Jack," Tooth reassured him, holding onto his clean hand. "But we need you to stay awake for just a while so we can make sure your head isn't hurt." They carefully eased the hoodie off, wincing every time Jack did, until they'd managed to lift it over his head. Tooth's eyes watered as she looked down at his injuries, North and Bunny looked fit to kill right then and there, and Sandy shook his head sadly, patting Jack's hair.

The poor boy was a mess of cuts all along his arms that had seeped blood onto his pale skin, uneven scratch marks like he'd been attacked by an animal. There were numerous small burns as well, remnants of his fight with the Firelings. But worst of all was the bite mark on his right shoulder, which was already discolored with bruising. The edges were slightly jagged, like he had jerked away on instinct to get out of its grip, but it was blessedly shallow.

Bunny stalked to the other side of the room, muttering threats and curses about what he would do when he got his paws on Hate while Sandy carefully checked Jack's head. When he found no sign of injury, he looked at North and nodded then flashed a picture of a sleeping boy above his head. "Go ahead," North told him. Sandy nodded again and summoned up a handful of dream sand, tossing it gently over the winter spirit's head. Soon, Jack was breathing peacefully while dolphins danced over him.

Sandy remained by Jack's head like he was standing a guard while Tooth carefully washed the blood off of Jack's arms. Bunny and North bandaged him up, ever cautious even though he was solidly asleep. Soon they had the winter spirit bandaged up, antiseptic applied to the bite mark on his shoulder. "It looks like a wolf bite," Tooth remarked. She held onto Jack's hand, Sandy was still smoothing his hair, North took the other hand, and Bunny rested a paw gently on Jack's uninjured shoulder.

"When he is stronger we will ask him what happened," North said, "but for now we must let him sleep." They turned and left for the globe room, except for Sandy who shook his head resolutely and planted his tiny hands on his hips. His message was clear- I'm staying with Jack. The others nodded and left him to his task. Sandy didn't know what compelled him to remain with Jack but he had a feeling that he was needed there, and at his age, he had long ago learned to listen to his instincts.

Out of the same instinct, he showered more dream sand over the sleeping spirit's head. He had a bad feeling about something; he felt as though there was a darkness moving across the land like a brewing storm, and he knew it was coming for Jack. Hate wouldn't give up so easily. So, Sandy waited, determined to keep watch over Jack until he could watch over himself again.

In the globe room, the other Guardians had the same feeling, but it was less pronounced as they discussed the situation with each other. "Surely Hate won't be so stupid he'd come after us _again,_" Bunny remarked. "He has to know we'll keep Jack with us every second 'til he's better."

"That is why I am worried," North replied heavily. "He is not one who gives up so easily. He will still be confident, and as long as he is confident, I will be worried."

"Yeah, and if he tries again, we'll knock his confidence down a notch," Bunny responded darkly, fingering his boomerangs. The Guardians might have been worried, but that certainly didn't mean they wouldn't be waiting for their chance to finish the fight for good. It was nothing more than a question of when.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Nice longer chapter to make up for how long it took me to post. :) So you know how things were looking up in the last chapter? Yeah, not any more. I have to pull your emotions back down to the deepest depths of the pit. I'm sorry, but not really. But to make up for it I've given you some BAMF!Sandy and I'll give you even more in the next chapter. As per usual, thank you kindly to everyone who faved or followed and if you review I promise I'll respond. See you in chapter ten! ^-^**

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Even Sandy, the devoted sentinel he had made himself, couldn't hold back the flood forever. Five hours later, the first signs of trouble began to appear. As Jack began to thrash in the bed, the golden dream sand over his head vanished in a puff and his face grew hard and grim. Strangely, no nightmare sand replaced the dream sand. It wasn't Pitch sending the boy nightmares. The only person that left was Hate.

Sandy rushed to the door and summoned a yeti, telling it in charades to go and get the other Guardians. Then he hurried back over to the bed, trying once more to replace the dream sand over Jack's head, only to have it snuffed out like the rest. The others ran to the bedroom as Jack began thrashing more strongly.

"Bunny, grab his legs!" North ordered the Pooka. "I will hold his shoulders. We must stop him from hurting himself further." It took the full strength of both North and Bunny to hold Jack down. For someone so small and light, he could put up a fight when the mood got into him. His face crumpled as he struggled against whatever it was that was assailing him until finally his motions began to still. But it wasn't a good kind of stillness; rather it was the eerie kind that spoke of resignation and lost will.

"Sandy, try again!" Bunny told the dream spirit. "Put your back into it, mate." Sandy nodded and focused, concentrating his dream sand to its most powerful and sending it to Jack forcefully. He sent with it everything he knew Jack loved, hoping that it would give their child strength enough to fight back. The dream sand stayed above his head before slowly sinking down, seeming to absorb into his pale skin.

The Guardians waited with bated breath to see what would happen, nearly giving cheers of relief when a small, nearly invisible smile ghosted onto his face and his shoulders relaxed a notch. Suddenly he gave off a wave of cold, eyes snapping open and searching the room.

"'S too hot… fire… Need the snow." He struggled to get his point across, disoriented by his sudden awakening, but they understood. Tooth flew over and opened every window in the room, plunging the temperature down to below freezing. As Jack cooled off, North happened to look down and notice something disturbing.

"Jack, what has happened to your wrists?" He picked up the child's arm, where all the Guardians could see bright red outlines against his skin, like he'd been struggling against ropes. Jack's pale face got even paler as he looked at the marks and he muttered something indistinguishable about dreams. "You know what has caused this?"

"The dream," Jack responded. "Hate did it. Whatever happens to me in the dream happens to me in real life."

"So you're saying that some bugger was tying you up in your dream?" Bunny asked, fighting all of his natural instincts to go out and make Hate regret the very second he'd dared to touch Jack Frost. "Who is it?"

"What I hate most," Jack replied dully, not providing any more information than that. "It's nobody you can fight, Bunny." He rubbed the angry red marks circling his wrists, looking not like a three hundred year old spirit but the child he was, and the other Guardians' hearts ached for him.

"So what happened in the dream, frostbite?" Bunny asked. Jack gave him a deer in the headlights look, not ready to reveal what he'd heard. Bunny noticed his expression. "Look mate, we don't want to pry, but we need to know so we can help you get rid of it." Jack fought an internal battle with himself. Bunny would just keep asking, he knew, and the others were concerned as well, but he was tired and ached all over the place and didn't want to bring up what he'd just seen.

Finally he sighed in resignation; hopefully they'd accept the abridged version. "When I fall asleep, what I hate most attacks me. This time I lost the fight and got tied up. That's all you need to know." There was a definite hesitation in his voice that told them he was lying, but they knew not to press it. Instead, Tooth decided to try a different subject.

"What attacks you when you dream, Jack? What is it you hate?" Jack gritted his teeth and looked at the wall, steadfastly refusing to answer the question, until the Guardians gave up. They realized that whatever was tormenting him in his dreams was not something he was willing to talk about, and forcing him would only make things worse.

Sandy scowled and shooed the others to the door, prodding Bunnymund rather forcefully when the obstinate Pooka didn't want to leave, and then shut the door behind them and drifted back over to Jack, placing a small golden hand comfortingly on the boy's bruised wrist. He covered it in a fine layer of dream sand to see if he could heal it. After all, it stood to reason that if it could be made in a dream it could be taken away by a dream. The golden sand sank into his skin but before it could have an effect, something went terribly wrong.

Jack had been looking down to watch what Sandy was doing, but the moment the dream sand touched his wrist it felt like he had been lit on fire. The painful feeling lanced up his arm to the center of his chest; it burned like the fire was inside of him and he yelled in pain before he could help himself. The other Guardians were back in the room in under a second, but there was nothing they could do to help. Jack's face scrunched up in pain and he put his hands over his chest, trying in vain to stifle the burning feeling.

"Frostbite, what's wrong?" Bunny asked, leaning over his friend. "Where are you hurting?"

"My chest," he groaned in response. He curled up into a ball when suddenly his eyes snapped open, staring over the Pooka's shoulder at something no one else could see. "No, no," he muttered, beginning to tremble. "You're lying. You're wrong."

North grasped Jack's hand and leaned in front of him, trying to block whatever he was seeing out of his vision. "Jack, who are you talking to?" None of the other Guardians could hear it, Not-Jack's voice floating around the air, telling him that he would only fail again, only make a bigger mess out of things if he asked for help. Jack stared past North unseeingly, caught in his own personal hell. North turned to the Guardian of Dreams. "Sandy, put him to sleep now, the deepest sleep you can give him." Sandy nodded and floated over to Jack's head, gently placing a hand on each of his temples, channeling the most powerful sleep he could. Slowly, ever so slowly, Jack's tense form relaxed and his panicked eyes closed. Soon he was breathing evenly, in a sleep so deep that he wouldn't dream about anything, good or bad. The other Guardians let out a breath they didn't know they'd been holding and looked to each other. Finally, Bunnymund broke the silence.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" The others shrugged or shook their heads, still trying to make sense of what they'd just witnessed. Sandy flashed a picture above his head, of his trying to heal Jack's wound and then Jack clutching at his chest. Then he motioned to the shirt the boy wore and a downward arrow. _We have to see his chest._

They had replaced his old, bloody shirt when they'd dressed his wounds, but they'd been so focused on the bite mark that they hadn't given a good look to the rest of his torso. Gently, not wanting to disturb him, they lifted the shirt over his head and gasped. "What... what is that?" Tooth whispered.

"I do not know, but I have bad feeling," North responded heavily. There, in the center of Jack's chest, was a hand print. It was black and blue, tinged with red around the edges, like a burn and a bruise all at the same time. North touched it gently, jolting backwards like he'd received an electric shock and looking down at his fingertip, which had turned the same blackish-blue color. It slowly faded away like dye mixing into water, leaving the Guardians staring at where it had been. "What sort of magic is this?" North muttered to himself before turning to Sandy. "Sandy, do you know anything of this?" Sandy shook his head slowly, just as shocked as the others.

"Someone's gotta know what this is," Bunny broke in angrily. "Who knows Hate's tricks the best? We've got to find out what's happening." They looked at each other over Jack's sleeping form. No one had any ideas what to do. Sandy shooed them out of the room again; they all needed some rest, not just Jack, and before the others could even protest, Sandy knocked them all out simultaneously with a dream sand firework. He drifted over to the fireplace, channeling all his centuries worth of knowledge, but he still couldn't find the cause of the disturbing injury. But Bunnymund was right- there had to be someone who knew what it was. Suddenly, Sandy snapped his fingers. He knew exactly who to talk to. It was just a question of, well, _persuading_ him to cooperate. And Sandy didn't think he'd have much trouble with that.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Pitch is worried for his personal safety, Sandy doesn't care, and I try to lighten the mood just an teensy bit before crushing your feelings with the second half. Also known as, chapter ten. Enjoy, and feel free to drop me a line! Reviews (as usual) will be responded to. **

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"Sanderson, I really do think this is entirely unnecessary," Pitch sighed as he tugged at the solid cocoon of dream sand holding him up in the air like the bait on the end of a fishing hook. Sandy glared at him and flashed a series of pictures over his head. Pitch had known the dream spirit for so long that he barely even had to try to interpret them: _you'll help or you'll get used as a battering ram._

"As undesirable as that prospect is, I still don't know what you think I can do about it. Hate and I haven't had what you'd call a favorable relationship for several centuries. And just to add to that, why on earth would I help the brat that defeated me in the first place?" Pitch couldn't help but startle as he was suddenly jerked towards the roof at rather an alarming speed.

"Alright, alright, alright!" he called out in exasperation, wincing as he stopped just an inch or two short of the solid stone roof. "I'll see what I can do, will _that_ settle for you?" Sandy looked at the Nightmare King suspiciously, seeming to be analyzing his pledge. Then he flashed a couple more pictures over his head. _You swear?_ Pitch sighed heavily, glaring at his opponent.

"If the alternative is you sending me out of here head first I don't see that I have much of a choice, do I?" As much as Pitch disliked the winter spirit, he also liked his personal safety and right now the two were warring with each other on a very fundamental level. It was the only time that the usually rhetorical question 'is it worth your life?' required an answer.

Sandy shook his head and smiled victoriously. Truth be told, he wouldn't have minded if he'd gotten to bang Pitch into the walls a few times- he was still a little sore from the other spirit's attempt to kill him, as one tended to be. But they needed Pitch in as non-combative a mood as possible, so Sandy slowly lowered him back to the floor. Keeping him wrapped in the tube of dream sand, he tossed a snow globe onto the ground and prodded the Nightmare King through.

"They do know I'm coming, right?" Pitch asked skeptically. His personal safety alarm was once again sounding off, not wanting to run into the other Guardians when they weren't expecting him to be there. Sandy nodded and continued to poke at him until Pitch (rather grudgingly) stepped through the portal, followed immediately by the dream spirit, who closed it the moment he was clear to prevent anything from following them through.

"Have you got him Sandy?" Bunnymund called through. Before he left to find Pitch, Sandy had given one of the yetis a note to give to the other Guardians telling them who he was going to find. As reluctant as they were to see the boogeyman's face for the next few decades they also knew that Sandy wouldn't have gone to get him unless there was no one else who could help them. The only question now, of course, was whether or not Pitch would actually give them any help. The others waited around the fire in the main room as Sandy prodded Pitch out of the portal, eyeing the Nightmare King with veiled suspicion.

"Oh, do relax," Pitch remarked with an antagonistic smile. "Sanderson has already made it clear that it is in my best interests not to try anything; I believe his primary threat was that he would turn me into a battering ram and when he's got me wrapped up like a bloody sausage roll I tend to take his threats rather seriously."

"I'll relax when you've told us what's going on," Bunny growled. Sandy finally released Pitch, who dusted himself off pointedly before they took him to see Jack, flanking him on either side. The winter spirit was still in the deep sleep Sandy had put him into, so deep that he was essentially in an induced coma. He was totally oblivious to the fact that there were even people around him, let alone one of his biggest enemies. North pulled back the sheet covering his chest where the hand print stood out starkly against his white chest. Pitch scowled at the mark.

"It's been a long time since I've seen that," he remarked.

"What is it?" North asked.

"It's an old, old form of magic that no one's used for hundreds of years. Hate is the only person who ever perfected it. It's binding magic."

"What on earth does that mean?" Bunnymund asked. Pitch only glanced at the Pooka before he looked back down at the hand print.

"Hate's bound his influence up inside Jack. He doesn't even need to be physically present to attack his mind, because the magic that was doing that has been contained inside him. And before you ask, you can't get rid of the mark with any other magic, and even if you keep him like this the magic will work its way into his mind eventually."

"There must be something we can do," North replied forcefully but Pitch shook his head in irritation.

"There isn't. Only Jack can get rid of the spell, and trust me, that's going to be hard for him to do in this state." Pitch anticipated their next question, answering before any of them could even ask. "The only way for him to cast off the spell is to let go of his hatred for whatever it is he hates most. As the hatred goes away, the hand print fades, and once he's lost his hate completely he'll be free of the binding spell. If he loses the battle, he loses his mind. And there are many more people who have lost that fight than have won it."

"But there are people who have won it?"

"A few. But if you really want to help him then you have to know what he's fighting. That I can show you, but I'll have to bring him up to where he can dream before it will work." The Guardians looked at each other suspiciously. None of them wanted to trust Pitch inside Jack's head, but finally they agreed that he could do it so long as Sandy watched him every second of the time. Pitch put his hand on Jack's forehead, summoning his mind up to where he could dream again, and projected the images in Jack's head out into the room. Now, the Guardians would see whatever Pitch saw, and a terrible conversation emerged.

_Jack opened his eyes to a strange sight- he was in Pitch's lair, of all places. "Hello? Is anyone there?" he called out. _

_"Yes, Jack." The winter spirit nearly leapt out of his skin when Pitch appeared from the shadows in front of him. "Don't worry," Pitch told him before he could ask any questions, "you're not in a nightmare. The Guardians have co-opted me for a few hours because they need to know something only I can figure out." Jack knitted his eyebrows. _

_"And what is that?"_

_"What you hate," Pitch responded. "I need you to show it to me." Jack's eyes narrowed. _

_"How do I know you won't lie to them about what you see?"_

_"Because it would be more than my immortal life is worth, for one thing, and for another that would be impossible. They can see everything I can right now." Jack's face grew wary._

_"I don't want to let him in. He'll take me over."_

_"Look around, Jack," Pitch responded. "You're in my domain now, and once I want him to go, he'll have no choice. Like I said, it would be more than it's worth for me to allow anything to happen to you right now. Open your mind up and let him in. Show me what you hate." Pitch was practically knocked over backwards by the fear coming off the boy, but eventually Jack sighed._

_"Alright. I'll show you. Just gimme a second." He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, his form seeming to morph slightly, body language changing, and when he opened his eyes they were red instead of their normal ice blue. This new person gave Pitch a cold smile._

_"You look surprised," Not-Jack remarked, his voice similar but somehow different, with a cold hard edge to it. _

_"I'll admit I'm caught a little off guard," Pitch responded evenly. "So, you are what Jack Frost hates the most." Not-Jack laughed harshly.  
_

_"I _am _Jack Frost, Pitch. And I am what Jack Frost hates the most. We're one and the same. Oh, don't look so surprised," he snarled at the other spirit. "Did you really think that three hundred years alone didn't even touch him? You of all people should know what that feels like. I hardly even have to do anything for him to lose the battle. I just have to keep reminding him of the truth- no one wanted him until he was useful and that's the only reason they keep him around now. He can deny it all he wants, but he'll see that I am right sooner or later."_

_"They'll do their best to throw you out," Pitch responded mildly, refusing to be phased by Not-Jack. "And Jack is nothing if not stubborn." Not-Jack gave an evil smile._

_"Well, I guess we'll see who's right, won't we?"_

_"Yes, but not today." Pitch decided that he'd seen enough. He was tired of this conversation and prolonging it wouldn't do him any good. He and the Guardians knew what they needed to. "Now get out and leave him. This is my place, and you will obey my orders. Now!" He shouted the last command and Not-Jack glared before leaving. The winter spirit shuddered and his eyes closed as he began to collapse. "Wake up, Jack," Pitch commanded him softly._

* * *

At the North Pole, the scene drained away, the Guardians reeled for their breath, and Jack woke up with a gasp, trembling.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: So, just got the comforting news that there's an escaped meth head convict running around town and he has a lot of friends on my university campus. Ain't that sweet... Yeah. I'll be keeping my doors locked tonight. Anyways, here is the chapter of eleven, and I hope all you awesome people enjoy it and review so I have emails to answer tomorrow. I actually gave you a slightly optimistic ending. Don't worry though; it won't last long. Also I gave you Pitch actually trying to be helpful, for reasons that I'll get to next chapter-ish. As usual, enjoy!**

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It took Jack several seconds to reacquaint himself with reality. The dream and the fight and the room he was in now all blurred together in a panic until suddenly things sorted themselves out with a clash and a clang and he saw the other Guardians and Pitch and realized that they knew. They knew it all. What was it Pitch had said? _They can see everything I can right now._

For a fraction of a second the others could see the hurt in his blue eyes but then just as quickly as it came it was gone, replaced by a mask of non-caring, well practiced over three centuries of use. He looked down at his bare chest where the hand print stood out so blatantly and frowned. "Where's my shirt?" He wanted to cover it up, he _needed _to cover up the mark because maybe if he did he could pretend that it didn't exist and everyone would stop _staring _at him. He spotted the shirt folded at the foot of the bed and snatched it up, throwing it over his head as fast as he could.

"Jack, mate," Bunny began, but the winter spirit cut him off at the pass.

"Can you just stop staring at me?" The blood rushed to his face, driven by discomfort and humiliation that he'd let himself become that exposed and right then he wanted nothing more than to take off for the south pole and go to the deepest point of the deepest ice cave he could find. An uncomfortable, tense silence filled the normally cheerful air until suddenly Pitch turned to the Guardians.

"Get out," he told them sharply. "He and I need to talk." The other Guardians resisted, reluctant to leave him with Jack, until finally Sandy intervened. He pointed to himself, then to Pitch, and then to the others. _They can go, but I'm staying with you. _Pitch nodded, and the others reluctantly left. Pitch turned to face Sandy. "Not a word of this conversation leaves this room. I don't want the others thinking I'm losing my edge." Sandy nodded slowly, a series of pictures flashing over his head. _I wouldn't have allowed this if I didn't think you had something important to say._

"So what did you want to talk about?" Jack asked cautiously. Now that there were fewer people in the room, his hackles had gone down somewhat, but he was still on edge.

"I just wanted to tell you what I told them," Pitch responded, gesturing towards the door the others had left through. "And to pass on a bit of, friendly advice, you might call it. _You _are the only person who can break the spell Hate's put on you, and the only way you can do that is to let go of your hatred for yourself. If you don't, you will lose your mind to it. That would be what I told them."

"And the friendly advice?" Jack responded, not entirely sure he wanted to hear it.

"The friendly advice would be that I have a very personal experience of what it's like to lose yourself to darkness, and it's not pleasant on any level. So my suggestion is that you win this fight, unless you want to turn out like me." Pitch gave a grim, humorless smile. "And somehow I doubt that is the case. And know this- you are the only one who can get rid of the magic, but don't disregard those around you." He turned to leave before stopping and facing Jack again. "One last thing, though I never thought I'd hear myself saying these words- good luck, Frost. You're going to need it." He turned once again and left the room, followed by Sandy. Their business was done now, and Sandy had to ensure that Pitch got back through the portal. None of them the Nightmare King enough to let him leave on his own.

"What on earth am I going to do?" Jack whispered into the room. The silence was almost deafening, and he was afraid. Afraid of Not-Jack, afraid of having to face him down, and afraid of what the other Guardians would think. A golden glow preceded the Sandman through the door, and he floated over to the winter spirit, placing a gentle hand on his undamaged shoulder. He pointed to the door and a question mark formed over his head. Jack sighed.

"I might as well." Jack gathered his courage and seized his staff (eternally grateful that it had survived the attack), following Sandy to the globe room where the other Guardians were waiting. Jack tried his hardest to smile and pretend that nothing had changed, but it was just too much for him right now. Instead, he leaned on his staff and broke the silence with two words-

"You saw?" They simply nodded, unsure of how to reply, how to comfort him, how to pretend they had adjusted to the realization that the one thing Jack Frost, _their _Jack Frost, hated the most was himself. In the time since Pitch's defeat, they had come to care for the small winter spirit. He might have been something over three hundred years old, but he was still a child. He had been a child when he died and was a child now; his brain and his body had stopped developing when he fell through the ice and they wouldn't start again. He had been nobody's child for three centuries. But after the fight with Pitch, when Jack had finally taken his place among them, he had become their child. And now their child was in danger.

"Oh, Jack," Tooth said softly, darting over and hugging Jack tightly. Jack looked stunned for a second, still painfully unused to physical contact, before he slowly returned the gesture and slowly letting the tension drain out of his thin form. Finally he eased his way out of her grip and sat on the edge of a chair, perched like a bird and observing the others cautiously.

"Jack," North rumbled, doing his best not to startle the winter spirit. "We need to know what happened when you were missing. We will talk about... the rest of it later." Jack nodded wordlessly. "Why did he take you?" Jack shrugged, his voice mechanical.

"He said he was trying to take over the world, but to do that he needed to get rid of the Guardians so he decided to go through me. He said that I was the weak spot and-" Jack stopped, trying to gather his courage, studiously ignoring the others' faces "-and that once you've forced your way through the weak spot you can attack the rest of it more easily." By the time he was done, North had his hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white and Bunnymund was practically shaking with suppressed fury. Sandy rested a small hand on Jack's, brushing over the scratches and cuts and rope burn. Even without any words his message was clear: _he tried, but he failed. _

Jack smiled at Sandy, the first smile the Guardians had seen since they'd rescued him. It was only a hint of his normal wild grin, but it was better than seeing nothing and it set a small part of them at ease. A very small part. They knew there were some hard days coming, harder than any of them could anticipate, but as night fell over Santoff Claussen they pushed that to the back of their minds and sat in silence, doing their best to comfort their child.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: The first section in two lines- Pitch: Do you think I'm that stupid? Hate: It was worth a shot. XD I promised Pitch isn't gone from this story but he's going to have a few chapters of hiatus while I get the angst train rolling again and then he'll show up towards the end, so worry not. Also, tremendous shout-out to Cayran, for whom I am beta-ing and whose story 'The Longer I Run' is really good and should be read by all. Anyways, y'all enjoy and review! ^-^ **

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Pitch Black couldn't help but laugh; that fool actually thought he had the drop in him _in his own place,_ no less. No wonder they had fallen out after the plague; he couldn't imagine being allied with someone so stupid. Evidently Hate wanted to have a chat. Well, Pitch could do that, but he wasn't about to make pretenses. "Planning on speaking or would you like to skulk for a while longer?" he drawled. If Hate was surprised he covered it well.

"Ah, speaking of skulking, I was wondering where you'd run off to after your last loss." He smirked at Pitch's angry sneer. "How lucky to find you, now that I've learned you decided to help the Guardians." He spat the last two words and it was Pitch's turn to smirk.

"I don't know that 'help' is the operative word; rather 'not oppose'. Though you seem to have forgotten, I actually am _not_ a fool and I know when I'll take one enemy over the other."

"Oh, so suddenly I'm the villain, am I?" Hate hissed in return. "I didn't notice you minding my influence very much during the Dark Ages. I still don't know why you got so upset over the Plague. Your power practically doubled and you didn't even thank me."

"Thank you for what? Wiping out half the population? I may be fueled by fear, but even I have standards, _my old friend_." Hate laughed loudly.

"Are you trying to tell me that death bothers you? Don't kid yourself, _old friend._" Pitch shrugged.

"I'll be honest, yes, it doesn't bother me as much as it does most people; I, however, don't revel in it." Hate sneered.

"What, too many memories of being human? I don't know why you hang onto them anyways, Pitch; Kozmotis is long gone." Pitch's face turned cold as a block of ice.

"Oh, come now, you believe that about as much as I do. Now if you haven't got anything else to say…" He gestured to the exit with a flourish. "I suggest you see yourself out before I have a few of my Nightmares attend to the task."

"We could work together again."

"As you told me, don't kid yourself. I'm not in the mood to let you kill everyone you clap eyes on. Just out of general principle, of course, but there is the more personal motivation that dead people can't feel fear. I've picked my side already." Hate glared at the Nightmare King.

"So you've chosen them, then. Alright, but you will regret it."

"Doubtful," Pitch answered dryly. The two spirits glared at one another for a few seconds longer before Hate turned on his heel, vanishing into the night and leaving the thoughtful Nightmare King behind him. Pitch sighed in irritation and crossed his arms, staring at the iron globe in front of him and watching the lights blink. He was really doing it; he was actually siding with the Guardians. The Man in the Moon must be rolling around laughing right now. After how many centuries of fighting, Pitch Black and the Guardians of Childhood had to work together. The irony actually almost hurt.

* * *

Hate was seething by the time he got back to his now partially destroyed lair. "That fool will not join us," he raged to the Fireling standing by his side. It stared back passively. It hadn't been given an order, so it simply did nothing, letting its master vent. "He is weaker than I thought. Nevertheless, it's only a matter of time before the boy breaks." A small smile crossed his face as he began to stop seeing red. He could still turn this around, and he would.

The world would be his to control, and Pitch Black and the Guardians would regret the day they ever dared to stand up against him; that he would make sure of. He turned his attention to Jack Frost. The winter spirit had proved to be far more resilient than Hate had anticipated, and it was really throwing a monkey wrench in the proceedings.

"Time for a little nudge, don't you think?" The Fireling continued to stare, and Hate couldn't suppress the slightest eye roll. The creatures really were thick, but that didn't mean they were no good. They were good at destruction, and that was all he needed them for. He continued to think out loud.

"Of course, it does me no good to wait for him to fall asleep, now does it? The blasted Sandman will just block me." He would have to come up with something new, something nice and tangible so that the other Guardians could see it. Let them watch and be unable to do anything; it would only make his job easier. Plus, well, it would be _fun._

* * *

The Guardians had all stayed together through the night. Sandy commanded his dream sand from afar and Tooth set her most trusted fairies in charge of operations. None of them could bear to leave Jack alone, so quite simply they didn't. Sandy watched him alertly, but no phantoms showed up to plague his dreams, only dolphins and snowball fights. None of the others could quite decide if that was a good thing or a bad.

He woke up bleary-eyed but safe and sound, grumbling in protest when Bunny forced him to lie still long enough for the Pooka to change his bandages. Bunny grit his teeth when the injuries were exposed, and Jack's pale face got even paler. "I didn't know they were that bad," he muttered softly. He hissed when he touched one of the cuts gently and Bunny rolled his eyes.

"What did you expect would happen when you poked it, frostbite? They'll heal, though. What happened to you, mate? How did you get these?" Bunnymund wondered briefly if he should have approached that more subtly but that just wasn't how the Pooka did things. He had been tasked by North with finding out exactly what happened to the boy and dodging around things wouldn't make it any easier. Jack shrugged with his unhurt shoulder.

"Just a bad dream, like the other one that you guys saw."

"C'mon, frostbite, I need to hear the rest of it. What attacked you like that? What did you hear?" Jack glared at the Easter Bunny but there was no real feeling behind it, more of a habit than anything else. Finally, with great reluctance, he told his friend what happened.

"It was a wolf- well, sort of. It was a really messed up wolf and it jumped on me. I tried to fight it but there was fire all around and I was weak and _he_ was there, telling me… I thought maybe I should just give up but then it bit me and it hurt so much I just sort of froze it on instinct. Then the fire went out and I woke up." Bunnymund didn't have to ask who the 'he' Jack had referred to was.

"What did he tell you?" Jack looked away at the wall, looking for all the world like he was ashamed; it was an expression that made Bunny want to go out and pull Hate around by his ankles for a long, long while.

"It was right after I thought about giving up; he asked me if I was giving up again. Like after Easter." Bunnymund winced. Easter was not among their fondest memories- not last Easter, leastways. "When I left to Antarctica." He was still staring at the wall quite deliberately.

"But you didn't," Bunny told him suddenly, breaking the silence. Jack looked at him with confusion.

"Didn't what?"

"Didn't give up, mate; not once, not even when we'd given up on you. You still came back." Jack frowned.

"But I still left," he whispered softly. Bunny placed a paw on his uninjured shoulder.

"Frostbite, you didn't leave because you gave up; you left because _we_ did. We were all upset and angry and we took it out on you. _I_ took it out on you, and it took me a bit to realize that I was wrong. What happened on Easter wasn't your fault and we shouldn't have blamed you for it." Jack gave a real, if small, smile.

"Never thought I'd hear you actually apologizing for something, cottontail." Bunny arched an eyebrow and grinned, taking the joke in his stride.

"Yeah well, you better mark it on your calendar, mate, 'cause I guarantee you it's not gonna happen again." Both Guardians gave genuine smiles, lapsing into a manageable silence, if not a comfortable one. Despite their long-running and ongoing rivalry, the two had grown to trust each other and make more jokes in jest than in insult. Bunnymund knew it would take a while before Jack would trust any of them entirely- after all, three hundred years was a lot to rectify- but he hoped that one day Jack would become as attached to them as they had to him. And when he hoped for something, he did his damnedest to make sure it came true. It was his job, after all.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Angst time! I'm gonna leave this note short because I'm killer tired and I know y'all probably don't care what I ramble about. :) So yeah. I've got over 100 followers and more than 50 favorites on this. On this. I. Love. You. All. You make me happy on a very deep level. And of course, I must remind you to review, because I promise I answer and I don't bite and reviews make me warm and fuzzy on the inside. So, yeah... Anyways, enjoy! ^-^**

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The worst thing about getting attacked by yourself was that you could never see it coming. Not-Jack struck suddenly, his voice hitting Jack like a physical blow. _Ready to give up yet? _Jack clenched his eyes shut as Not-Jack's voice echoed through his head. He growled back in response as the other Guardians rushed to his side.

"Jack, what's wrong?" Tooth asked him urgently.

"It's him," Jack groaned. "Don't you hear him?"

_Oh, can they not hear me? Well I'll have to something about that then, won't I? _Not-Jack gave a sadistic laugh and suddenly Jack's head felt like someone was trying to press it against a brick wall. _There, is that better? _The other Guardians looked around the room, searching for the spot Not-Jack's voice was coming from.

"Uh, did you lot hear that too?" Bunnymund asked nervously. The others nodded slowly, but Jack just slumped to the floor, holding his head between his hands as the pain continued.

_Of course they heard it,_ Not-Jack replied sarcastically. _You can all hear it, including poor little me sitting on the floor over there. _

"Shut up!" Jack yelled. His head snapped up in irritation and he scrambled back to his feet. "I don't care what you have to say, and I'm not going to listen to you!" Not-Jack's laugh echoed around the room.

_If you didn't listen to me I wouldn't be here; and you do care what I have to say. You've given me that kind of attention for three hundred years. It's all in the eyes, you know. _The others turned and gasped. Jack's eyes, normally the same shade of blue as an iceberg underwater, had turned a shockingly bright violet. Red was warring with blue, and it was a fierce fight. _The eyes are the window to the soul, don't they say? You can try to ignore me all you want but we both know that I am what's inside of you. _

"You're not me," Jack growled, only to be met with his double's laugh.

_Yes I am. You may not know it yet, but it's only a matter of time. You're so blinded by your masks that you can't see the truth. No one wanted you, not ever. Three hundred years you went and the only ones that even knew you existed ignored you. You want to know how I came about? I was born the day you realized that you were the problem, not any of the others. I've been waiting a long time for you to realize that._

"What do you mean I'm the problem?" Jack retorted venomously, but there was a shake in his voice that made the other Guardians worried.

_Well think about it, _Not-Jack replied, and they could almost feel the smirk in his voice. _They were all fine and dandy before you came along and they were just as good after. So obviously there's something wrong with _you_, isn't there? _The others had been listening, but now Bunny was driven to speak.

"Oi, how about you shut up, ya tosser?" he shot out angrily.

_Oh alright, if you insist, _Not-Jack responded with mock irritation. _I work better from the inside anyways. _The pain vanished from Jack's head and the violet drained from his eyes, leaving them their regular astonishing blue. The physical pain was gone, but his mind was in turmoil, spinning with thoughts he couldn't control and wanted to destroy. Thoughts that wanted to destroy him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered repetitively under his breath, not sure if he was speaking to himself or the others. The others gathered around him, their presence alarming the winter spirit. He was unused to being surrounded by people; it wasn't claustrophobia, exactly, but it was closely related. His nails dug into his palms and his breathing quickened, eyes darting from one Guardian to the other as he looked for a way out.

Sandy noticed his distress and glanced around, quickly realizing what the problem was, and gestured urgently for the other Guardians to give their winter spirit some space. They caught his meaning and backed off quietly. Bunny was still fuming from their conversation with Not-Jack and North stared off into the far distance sadly while Tooth looked to be on the verge of tears. Sandy shifted his position so that he was next to Jack rather than in front of him. Jack looked at the dream weaver, blue eyes full of a turmoil that broke the little man's heart. Sandy simply looked back into his eyes and rested a small hand on his back.

"He's in my head," Jack whispered hoarsely. He had either forgotten or stopped caring that there were others in the room. "I'm sorry." He began to mutter the two-word mantra over and over again and the others felt like their hearts might burst watching him. Sandy touched his arm gently and made some signs over his head. _Sorry for what? _

"For whatever I've done wrong. I didn't mean to, I swear I didn't. I just wanted to have fun and make people laugh, not make them angry. Why didn't anyone notice me? It was me, it was always me. I just want to know what I can change." Sandy lifted the winter spirit's chin from where it had sunk to his chest and looked him straight in the eye, making a sand X over his head. His message was clear- _n__othing. _If sand could have made its images firmly, that sand would have. More signs came up over Sandy's head. _You don't need to change a thing. _

"Sandy's right," Tooth interjected. "You're not the problem." Jack wanted to believe her more than anything, but the doubt was still there.

"What if you're wrong?" he muttered quietly. Sandy didn't even need to make a sign over his head. The look on his face got his message across clearly: _I am _not _wrong. _The golden man conjured up a dream sand picture of the five of them standing together, arms around each other and Jack smack-dab in the middle. The winter spirit reached out hesitantly, as if he was afraid to touch the image for fear that it really was nothing more than a dream.

"Trust us, Jack," Tooth said, flying to his side and wiping away some stray tears. "Please. There's nothing wrong with you. We didn't notice you, but that was our fault, not yours. We should have noticed you and we should never have left you on your own all those years, but it was nothing that you did." Jack looked at her through his white bangs.

"You promise?" he asked quietly.

"I promise," the fairy replied, violet eyes beginning to water again. She wasn't going to lie, it hurt her deeply to see the winter spirit like this. She couldn't help but think that if only she'd known, if only the other Guardians had known, things might have been different. But no, she couldn't fool herself like that; they had known, they just hadn't done anything. They had always made the faint excuses that they were too busy or that he was being too much of a troublemaker, and now deep inside Tooth feared that they might have made an error that they could never rectify, a wrong that they could never right. "I promise," she repeated quietly. "There is nothing wrong with you." Slowly, making sure not to startle him, the others moved nearer to the winter spirit. They knew that there was nothing they could do to banish his hatred of himself, but they knew that they could be there for him while he fought, and remind him that he wasn't alone, not anymore. And maybe, just maybe, they could right that wrong.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I'M SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY. YOU HAVE NO IDEA. So to make up for it here's a heart-wrencher with a nice ol' cliffhanger thrown in for good measure. Thanks to Don't Touch My Seaweed Brain for kicking my butt into gear and thanks to everyone who reviewed or favorited or followed because you make me very happy. And speaking of reviews... enjoy the chapter. ;) I promise I'll have the next one much sooner. **

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After the most recent attack, Jack quickly retreated to his room, wishing for nothing more than to be left alone. He was so, so angry, and one of the things he was most angry about was breaking down in front of the others. He had his covers and his masks and he'd let them all slip away because of thoughts he'd managed to hide from others for three hundred years and it embarrassed him. "Can't keep my freaking feelings to myself anymore can I?" he muttered, running an agitated hand through his hair. He needed to be alone, needed time to reset his cover and pretend like none of this had ever happened.

But he knew that now that the façade had cracked, he'd never be able to patch it up and play pretend without the others knowing what was really happening; and deep down in his center he knew that was a good thing, but he didn't want to admit it to himself. He had had the walls up for so long he didn't know how to live without them, but he couldn't fix them, he just couldn't. He didn't know how to do it anymore. He'd taken blow after blow after blow and kept on smiling, kept on feeling joy, because he knew that if he didn't he would crumble like the melting ice he created.

The others had tried so hard to reassure him, to let him know that the voice in his head was wrong and that he really was good enough, and for the briefest and brightest of moments he had really believed them. He had really thought that maybe they were right, and then his mind's warped reality came crashing back down, saying that they would never accept him, that all they were doing was pacifying him and giving him platitudes to make him settle down. The small comfort he'd gotten from their words was swift and fleeting and when it fled it left him colder than he had been before.

He groaned aloud in frustration and punched his thigh with his good hand. Why couldn't he just _stop _feeling altogether? Wouldn't that be easier, wouldn't that be so much simpler? But no, he had to endure them all, sit through isolation and pain and abandonment with no break and with no relief in sight and for the sake of the Man in the Moon _he was tired of it._

_But don't you remember? You _did _try that one time, and it didn't even work. Just another thing you failed at._

"Shut up," Jack growled. "I remember that just as well as you. I'm over it."

_Are you really, though?_

"Shut up!" He spoke louder the second time.

_You know your _friends _would be so humiliated in you if they knew what you'd tried to do though. Is that why you've never told them? _Jack slumped down onto his bed and pressed his face into the pillow with a groan. He wanted to give up. He wanted to quit. He wanted to vanish off the face of the earth and never come back, just like he did… then. Just like he did during the time he had not and would never ever speak about.

"Ah!" He rolled over onto his back and clutched his chest where Hate's mark was burning like a brand. He bit his lip but couldn't contain his cries of pain and soon all the Guardians were rushing into his room. Jack thrashed on the bed, unaware of their presence. His blue eyes stared off into the far distance, looking at nothing at all, until one last shudder ran through him and he slumped back onto the bed, blessedly unconscious.

Tooth began to cry openly as North and Bunnymund stretched the frail-looking winter spirit out on his bed, trying to give him what small comfort they could. Some instinct within them all, though, warned them that any peace he found in his current state wouldn't last him long. The night terrors would be back for another try.

Sandy looked at the others seriously, pictures flashing above his head- _this isn't going to be easy to watch. _

"D'you reckon we should go, give the kid some privacy with just Sandy?" Bunny asked, but North shook his head roughly.

"No, we must stay. We must know, whatever it is that we may see, so that we can show Jack that we still care for him. No matter what." The others nodded solemnly, knowing that what North had said was the truth but still dreading what might come from having to know it. It didn't take long for Hate to strike. Sandy looked gravely at the others and then gently placed his hands on either side of Jack's head. His magic tugged at the other Guardians and before they could catch a breath they found themselves soaring back into Jack's dreams.

There was a flash of light and then they were in a cave in what- to any of their best guesses- looked like Antarctica where Jack (Jack from the past, not their Jack, they reminded themselves) leaned against the icy wall of a cave. The first thing they noticed is that he was dressed differently, in the same pants but in a white shirt and brown half-cape that hung off of his skinny frame. The second thing they noticed was the blank look in his eyes and the complete emotionlessness of his face. It looked… wrong somehow. Jack didn't look like a living breathing being, he looked like a robot. The other Guardians couldn't help but think of the expression 'the lights are on but nobody's home'.

"I have a bad feeling about this," North rumbled quietly. "In my belly. Very bad." The others shared looks, reluctant to admit that they'd had the same feeling too. None of them could bring themselves to break the silence, as though doing so would shatter the world that had grown up around them. Oblivious to their presence, memory Jack stood (God, he even _got up_ as though he was just responding to a command) and walked over to the opposite wall, a sheet of ice so smooth and silvery that you could have seen your reflection in it with little effort.

He had yet to say a single word or make a single facial expression, only reaching up with one finger to run the tip over the glassy ice, leaving a circle of frost, and then pulled back sharply, clenching his pale hand into a fist. The silvery ice cracked into pieces and hit the ground with a series of melodious tinkles. It would have been musical if it wasn't so dreadfully frightening. Memory Jack looked down at the result impassively, poking at one of the shards with his toe. He blinked slowly, as if he were rising out of a deep sleep, and then seemed to actually take in his surroundings for the first time.

A moonbeam had somehow worked its way through the solid ice, creeping up over the winter spirit's toes, and he kicked at it angrily, flaring to life. "Go away! Can't you leave me alone for just one hour? Is that really too much to ask? I've been here for seventy years now, _seventy years,_ and you don't even tell me why? Not a word, not a hint, nothing. And now that I want solitude you won't give it to me?" Jack retreated further into the depths of the cave and the other Guardians followed him. The dogged moonbeam trailed him the whole way until finally he turned and yelled wordlessly, bolting from the cave and onto the ice sheet.

"Okay, I'm out here! What more do you want? Do you want me to just keep waiting, is that it? I assume you've got a plan for me, some kind of reason for me being here. If you've even got a reason for me existing at all you better tell me why. Because right now I don't have one." He stared challengingly at the moon, shoulders thrown back, only to have them sag in defeat. "I figured as much." He turned away from the moon and cast aside his staff, not even looking to see where it landed.

"Oh, Jack, no," Tooth whispered, knowing the spirit couldn't hear her but talking all the same. "No, please don't." The Guardians rushed up to memory Jack as he walked slowly to the edge of the ice shelf. Looking over they could all see how it dropped off at over a ninety degree angle; nothing to hold onto. Nothing to stop yourself with. The Guardians were all aware on some level that they were yelling but none of them could have told you what they were saying. It was all one painful, horrified blur.

They could do nothing but plead and watch as Jack (_not _their Jack, Jack from the past, _not _their Jack) stood at the edge of the drop, wind whipping around him as though it too were trying to protect its friend from himself. But he didn't hear the Guardian's cries and didn't acknowledge the wind's howling. He simply stood and stared into the sea, looking for all the world like he didn't even know he was really there.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Yet again I apologize profusely and beg your forgiveness for this being so damn late. All I can say is that, not to put too fine a point on it, life has been shitting on me and pretty much everyone around me for the last two months. Lemme put it like this, it started with my dad having open heart surgery, peaked with half my town getting destroyed by an EF5 tornado, and ended with another week of tornadoes and a four day power outage. So yeah, I had to prioritize and this sort of got pushed onto the back burner. But the good news is, my dad's doing great, we've gotten our power back, and we're rebuilding our town. And, I have another chapter done that I'm going to post today to make up for the ridiculous update delay. As usual, I welcome and will answer reviews. Enjoy. ^-^  
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It seemed like both time and the Guardian's hearts had stopped as they watched Jack stare off the edge of the ice cliff. They had long since stopped calling to him, not because they knew it would do no good while they were in a memory, but because they were too horrified to make a sound. They could only watch as he gazed at the tossing, frigid waters below. The waves, stirred up by the wind in its desperation to protect its friend, splashed against the ice cliff and burst into caps of foam that flowed back into the raging sea. Anything- or any_one_- who fell into that would never be able to regain their control or fight the current. There was nothing they could do but drown.

Jack's blankly robotic face flickered to life once again and he smiled down into the water before he opened his mouth and began to laugh, a hollow sound that sent darts of cold down their spines. He slumped to his knees in front of the cliff and sank his head into his hands until he grew completely and utterly still. Some of the tension drained out of the Guardians' shoulders as they began to have a glimmer of hope that Jack wouldn't throw himself from the cliff. Their hearts nearly stopped on a dime when he flung himself straight up, spinning around to face the moon.

"Is this what you've been after the whole time? Is it?" he yelled. "Trying to see how long it would be before I give up? Seventy years of this just isn't enough, I guess. Well you've lost your bet, then, because you know what? I don't even have the guts to do it. So I guess I'll just have to keep on living. Who knows; maybe I'll show you up one day." His angry outburst over, Jack glared up at the moon for another couple of seconds before the strength seemed to die out of him and he toppled over sideways, burying himself in the blowing snow.

The image drained away from the Guardians and suddenly they were all back where they had begun, in Santoff Claussen, in Jack's bedroom, where the winter spirit still tossed and turned, caught up in the depths of his memories. Bunnymund's ears flattened back against his head as he looked down at the spirit he'd come to view as his little brother, spine cold at the thought of Jack being driven to think that- to think _that._

"Poor little anklebiter," he murmured under his breath. "We really did it stupid ignoring you, didn't we?" He knew it was foolish, but the Pooka felt as though somehow he was personally responsible for letting Jack come into that state. He was the Guardian of Hope who had let a child go without hope for three long centuries, believing that there was no one who cared about him. No one who would miss him if he died.

Across from the Easter Bunny, Sandy was wrapped up in thoughts of his own. He was the only one of the Big Four who had actually gotten to know Jack prior to the boy becoming a Guardian. He tried to make a point of interacting with all the spirits at least once, and something about Jack had struck him, some instinctive internal feeling that the child needed to be spoken to. Now he wondered why he hadn't noticed that something was terribly wrong with Jack all those years ago. Why he had left him to fend for himself.

Tears were slipping silently down Tooth's face as she looked at the others. "How did it get to that?" It was something of a rhetorical question, and a question to which they all knew there was no real good answer. "How did we let him get to that?" Silence reigned over the Guardians until, with a jerk and a gasp, Jack's blue eyes snapped open. He blinked rapidly, his gaze darting around the room as he tried to sort out where he was.

Shock was visible on the winter spirit's face as he became aware of what- and who- was all around him, followed by a combination of fear and shame. His blue eyes flickered to the side as he gazed at the wall rather than his friends. Surprisingly, however, he was the one who broke the heavy, lingering silence that hung over them.

"That was a long time ago. I told myself I'd never even think about that day again." His voice was quiet and blank. "So much for that." The other Guardians glanced around. They could all tell that Jack was uncomfortable with so many of them in the room, but no one knew who should stay and who should go. Finally, North turned to the small spirit on the bed.

"Walk with me, Jack," he rumbled, just as he had the first time the two Guardians had ever properly met. He shuffled Jack out of the bed and led him off down the hallway, away from the others. They ended up in North's office, another echo of their first meeting. "What did he say to you?" North broke the silence this time. Jack stared into the fire and bit the inside of his cheek.

"That you guys… that you guys would be humiliated if I ever told you that I'd thought about killing myself. If you'd seen how I was back then." His clear blue eyed flickered away from the fireplace and towards the large man sitting at the desk. "If you'd seen that I was so weak."

"You are not weak, my boy." Jack looked away from the fire, startled. "You are not weak now and you were not weak then. You are _strong_. Strong enough to survive and strong enough to keep going down the road even when you felt that you were walking alone."

"I told myself I'd never feel like that again," the white-haired spirit intoned. "That I'd never feel like I wasn't myself. All I want to do is laugh and play tricks and act like none of this is happening, act like I'm not at war with myself. This isn't me!" he finished, struggling to get his point across.

"What isn't you, my boy?" North replied. Jack gestured towards himself.

"This," he responded. "I don't do _this_, I never break down, I'm not allowed to. It's not me, and I don't like that." Jack ran a hand through his white hair, trying to control his agitation.

"What do you mean you're not allowed to?" North asked quietly. Jack shook his head repetitively.

"I mean I'm not allowed to. Everyone's so mad all the time, always upset about something or other and they always go ahead and talk about it, or yell, or act around in a bad mood. I can't do any of that. When I was first around, I got so frustrated that I'd just start yelling to see if anyone could hear me. Everyone who did just told me to be quiet, calm down, don't pay any attention to the fact that we're busy ignoring you when we're not telling you to shush. They get mad and people sympathize, but when I got mad they told me to go away. So I realized it must be that I'm not allowed to. I'm always the cheerful one, the one who gets everyone else's moods up." He shrugged disconsolately. "I have to be in a good mood all the time; it's what everyone expects of me."

Jack lowered his head and avoided North's gaze; he knew it was going to happen again now, he was going to be told it's not really that big of a deal, why don't you just calm down and control yourself? But only silence met him. Confused, Jack looked cautiously at the Russian, who was looking into the fire so hard that he could have bored a hole through the bricks straight to the other side. The younger spirit didn't know what to say, so he simply continued with the story.

"After a while, I just… couldn't keep it inside anymore. Or I'd kept it inside for too long. I don't know what it was but-" He broke off with a disconsolate shrug. "Something just kind of went off inside me." North was still examining the fireplace but now he sighed heavily.

"I will be honest, my boy. I don't quite know what to say. All I can say is that I am so very sorry that you feel that way." Jack lowered his eyes and shrugged.

"That's just the way it is, though."

"No it isn't, my boy. You are allowed to get upset and you are allowed to feel angry. But you don't need to feel angry at yourself. You are not to blame. Look at me, Jack." Jack was still staring resolutely at the floor, but his ice blue eyes jumped up to meet the Russian's. "Just because you had trouble in the past does not mean that trouble should rule your future. Things will be different from now on, that I can promise."

A flicker of hope, the first real one that Jack had felt since his ordeal started, sparked inside his chest and he let a hint of a smile cross over his face. He was not out of the woods yet. But the trees were not so thick on the ground now, and he could finally begin to see a glimmer of sunlight.

And then, a window shattered in the main hall.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: In which Jack is summarily cheered up by the prospect of revenge and I get to indulge in one of the fight scenes I love ever so much. :D Also known as, the next chapter. Hopefully you enjoy it and once again I can only plead with you to forgive me for the delay. I've duct taped my muse to the side of my head now so from now on it'll be much quicker. Also, hopefully, mother nature will stop being a douche. Pitch, get your kid under control... XD *apologizes for that joke* As usual, ENJOY, and of course, review. ^-^**

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North and Jack whirled to face the hall, weapons drawn. North had barely opened the office door when Phil appeared in the hall, jabbering in Yetish. North listened attentively and then turned to face Jack, expression dark and grim. "Firelings, Jack." The winter spirit's eyes narrowed.

"Let's go get 'em, then."

"No," North ordered sharply. "You stay with Phil. It is you they are after. We must keep you safe." The yeti stationed himself resolutely in the doorway before the angry Jack could protest. North bolted for the main hall and was met by Sandy, Tooth, and Bunnymund, all of whom had the same question on their lips:

"What the heck is going on?!"

"Firelings," North grunted. He and the others hit the doors running, where they were met by half a dozen of Hate's minions, who greeted them with a noise halfway between a growl and a roar. "Cowabunga," Bunny muttered loud enough for the others to hear, "these babies are even uglier in daylight." A moment of absolute stillness reigned until, simultaneously, the two groups let out a battle cry and charged for each other.

The Guardians were outnumbered, but they had some advantages: it was their turf, they were fighting for one of their own, and, not to put too fine a point on it, the Firelings didn't have two brain cells to rub together between them. On the way over North had dispatched a yeti with orders to retrieve him the water cannon that had been so useful the first time they had gone up against the creatures. It was only a matter of stalling the Firelings long enough to freeze them.

"I really wish we could figure out how Jack killed them," Tooth yelled breathlessly as she flew circles around one Fireling to avoid its grasp. Sandy nodded his agreement as he picked one up with his sand whips and flung it clear through the broken window it had come in from. Bunny threw a boomerang towards the head of one Fireling and then made a hasty jump high into the air as another tried to grab him from behind, coming so close to the Pooka that he could practically feel his fur singe.

The yeti had finally returned with North's water cannon, which was good, because there were currently two Firelings going up against him. Had it been anyone else, those would have been bad odds, but North was a seven foot tall, angry Russian. He could handle himself. Bunny and Tooth distracted his attackers while North donned the water cannon and let loose on the closest Fireling. It was something of a lengthy process. The only trouble with the water cannon, aside from the fact that it didn't actually kill the Firelings, only sort of stun them, was that it took a bit for the effect of the freezing water to take.

They'd managed to get three down and summarily expelled into the blowing snow when they ran into a problem. One of them, slightly brighter than his compatriots, had managed to circle behind North in the confusion while the other three Guardians were occupied trying to take down another. Tooth whirled around just in time to see the Fireling's flaming arm descend towards North's head.

"North, look out!" Even as she yelled the warning she knew it was going to be too little, too late. North whirled around just in time to see flames a few inches from him- and then to see the blast of ice that knocked the Fireling over to the side of the room. He grinned widely.

"I thought I told you to stay away from the battle." Jack arched an eyebrow.

"And I'm suddenly going to start listening to rules, am I? Besides, this is the most fun I've had in a week." He fired another shaft of ice towards the Fireling as it lumbered to its feet, knocking it back flat on its behind. Jack cracked a wide smile at it. "You want me, ugly? Then _come on over here and get me!_" The Fireling howled angrily and launched itself across the room, careening straight into a post when Jack leapt into the air at the last second. Tooth and Bunny had managed to subdue one of the remaining Firelings, while Sandy had another in a golden cage.

North turned his attention to putting both of them out of commission while Jack continued to taunt the last of the attackers. He dipped and ducked around the infuriated creature, shooting bolts of ice at it and coating it with snow while it whirled in a circle, trying to get the young winter spirit in its grasp. "Not so easy to get when you don't sneak up on me from behind, am I?" Jack growled venomously. He shot up towards the ceiling, turned sharply, and dive bombed the Fireling.

Ice crackled out of the end of his staff like lightning bolts that bombarded the Fireling until it was stuck in a solid block of ice. At that moment, the other Guardians finished with the two they were fighting, trussing them up and throwing them out the window unceremoniously to join their comrades. "What are we gonna do with these beauties?" Bunnymund grunted, nodding his head in their direction.

"I have one way portal," North responded. "We will send them back to wherever they came from." North retrieved the portal from his office (and freed one very irate yeti whose feet had been frozen to the floor) and then he and Bunnymund hefted the Firelings through one after the other. The last to be returned to sender was the one that Jack had fought, which was transported with its ice cocoon and a message from the winter spirit to its master, in letters made of frost:

_Better luck next time. _

All five Guardians breathed an audible sigh of relief when the portal closed. "Glad to see the back of them," Bunny muttered under his breath. Louder, he said, "That was quite the trick there, Frostbite. It looked like you were hitting that thing with white lightning."

"Thanks, kangaroo." He snorted. "I could _use _some white lightning right about now." Sandy crossed his arms and pursed his lips at the young spirit. Sand pictures flashed over his head: _you're too young for that._

"Aw, come on Sandy, I'm three hundred years old." The sandman shook his head. The other three exchanged confused looks.

"Are we missing something?" North asked them. Bunny and Tooth just shrugged. North shrugged as well and then turned to look at the other four spirits. "I am afraid that is not the last we will see of Hate and his cronies. He has a whole army of the creatures."

"Well, we know there's a way to kill 'em," Bunny interrupted. "We saw Frostbite do it back at the island. We just need to figure out how he did it." Jack laughed shortly.

"I'd love to tell you if I had any idea. I can hardly remember that battle. I wasn't exactly in the best of shape."

"What do you remember?" Tooth asked. Jack knitted his eyebrows.

"I remember Hate telling them to kill you guys. And then I remember it was like someone zapped me with a live wire. And then I passed out. I don't know what I was feeling exactly. I mean, I was angry at Hate, but that's not what kills them or they'd all have died by now."

"So it had to have been something else," North interjected. A question mark flashed over Sandy's head. North shook his head thoughtfully. "I do not know." He looked directly at Jack. "You are the only person who knows how to kill them. Somewhere inside you remember what it was. You must do your best to find it." Jack nodded wordlessly.

"I wonder what Hate's gonna do now that we've taken the wind out of his sails," Bunnymund commented. "Do you think he's gonna try for Jack again?"

"Probably," Tooth answered him quietly. "But I don't think he'll do it any time soon. Now he knows that we can fight him. He'll probably want to wait and take his time." As they had a couple of nights ago, all five of the Guardians stayed at the Pole that night, waiting for an attack that never came.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Urgh, Dinogeek has been lazy and hasn't posted this til now. And also, Pitch is back! And Jack is getting proactive and irritated. XD Fun fact of this chapter- in the RotG film, Sandy dies on Good Friday and comes back to life on Easter Sunday. Seriously. That was either a complete accident or totally intentional… My money's on intentional, though. Cause that would be a big damn , enjoy and review! ^-^  
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North had risen from his sleep around three in the morning, and knowing that attempting to get any more was something of a lost cause, he sat before the fire in the main hall with its newly repaired windows, courtesy of the yetis' hard efforts that evening. He let his gaze drift into the flames, missing the stirring of the shadows out of the corner of his eye.

"Brooding doesn't suit you," Pitch remarked quietly as he drifted towards the Russian. North kept his composure and managed to hide his surprise.

"I am not brooding," he replied testily. "I am thinking. What have you been doing? Sandy tells me he's run into you several times."

"I've been raising an army," Pitch responded with an easy smile. "As much as it utterly galls me to have to say this, we need to work together to defeat Hate. If we're going to do that we need to have as much strength on our side as possible." North's bushy eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"You will help us? You and Hate must dislike each other more than I thought." Pitch snorted.

"Yes, you could say that. He did approach me a couple of days ago, but that was a… less than friendly conversation."

"Why did you work together in the first place?"

"Oh, it seemed like an agreement that would work out. After all, hate and fear tend to go hand in hand. But we reached what you might call a parting of the ways." Pitch's smirk morphed into a scowl. "I take power from fear, but I take no enjoyment out of suffering. Hate, on the other hand, can't get enough. I got fed up and the rest is history- quite literally so, in fact." North gave a short laugh.

"And now we will work together- after so many long years of fighting. It is a pity we could not do this under better circumstances." It was Pitch's turn to laugh.

"Don't worry, once we've gotten rid of Hate I assure you that our relationship will go right back to normal." North smiled ruefully.

"Yes, I suppose that, as they say, a zebra cannot change its stripes."

"Especially when the zebra has no stripes to change, North. I'm not planning to stay; that would just make things awkward. I simply wanted to let you know that I've thrown my lot in with the Guardians for this one." Pitch rose to his feet smoothly, extending one gray hand to North. The large man thought for a second and then shook it.

"It is a deal, then. How will you know when Hate is attacking?" Pitch gave his trademark smirk.

"Well, I've got my Nightmares acting as lookouts. So basically, the next time I show up here, we're all in serious trouble. I take it the boy is asleep?" North nodded. "Give him good luck from me. I've got a feeling I'll be seeing you soon." With that, Pitch melted into the shadows and then vanished. North resumed his place in front of the fire, turning the surprising conversation over in his head. He laughed quietly and looked toward the Man in the Moon.

"You have a strange way, Manny. Always bringing people together when they least expect it." He sighed from deep within his chest. "I just hope we are strong enough." He received his second surprise of the night when the door to his left opened and Jack Frost slipped into the room. He hopped up onto the high back of one of the armchairs, perching there like a human-sized bird, and leaned his staff next to him.

"Well," he remarked, "that was an interesting conversation." North smiled at him.

"So you _were _eavesdropping, then. I just sort of figured as much when you walked in here."

"I couldn't sleep; been thinking too hard. Don't want any more night terrors either. I'm trying to figure out how I killed those Firelings, I really am, but I just can't pin down what was different. I feel like it's right there and I just can't quite put my finger on it." The small winter spirit sighed deeply and changed the topic. "Do you really think Pitch is going to work with us?" The large Russian nodded.

"Yes, I do. Grudgingly, perhaps, but I believe he will. You should try to sleep, Jack. It is better for you." The winter spirit elected to ignore the last part completely.

"That's going to be one strange fight when it comes. Never thought I'd see the day I'd be sharing a side with Pitch Black." He frowned, furrowing his eyebrows thoughtfully. "Why do you think Hate waited two days to attack us after you got me back?"

"You did him some serious damage, Jack," North responded. "He needed time to regroup before he could go after you again. The question is, how much longer before he tries again? He is concerned that you will not lose to his magic, so he wants to take you again." Jack stared into the fire, seeming to mull over what to say.

"What do you think?" he finally decided on. "Do you think I'll win against his magic?" North furrowed his bushy eyebrows, working on the best way to articulate his thoughts. Finally, he began to speak.

"Yes, I do think you will win. You are strong, my boy. But even with your strength, you need to trust those around you to help you fight." Jack bit his cheek, eyes lowering.

"I do trust you guys, you know. I mean, I've been working on it. But all I've had for three hundred years is me, and now trying to share all these internal thoughts is just…" He trailed off, unsure how to articulate himself.

"It is embarrassing, no?" North finished for him with a gentle smile. Jack nodded, his face flushing a bit. "I know you feel that way Jack- you are very private person, and that is good thing. It works for you. But there are times that we must do things that make us uncomfortable. It is hard now, to lose your privacy like this, but it will work out for you in the end."

"I just… for so long I've never had to discuss emotions or thoughts or anything like that and I never planned to. Everyone figured I was in a good mood all the time, and most of the time I was, and even when I wasn't it would pass eventually." Jack shrugged languidly. "And you're right, it is hard to lose my privacy. It's one of the only things I've ever had." He began to grow angry. "Why did Hate have to go and pick me? What did I ever do to him, huh?" He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up randomly.

"Hate chose you because he thinks that you are weak," North answered him quietly. "And because he thinks that you are alone. He does not realize that you are neither. Now go, get some rest. Even if you do not sleep, relax." He knew that he was pretty much asking the impossible of Jack. The days had been rough and he knew that as Hate grew angrier it would only get worse. Jack had been thinking along the same lines, and now he looked at North with troublemaking in his eyes.

"You know, that fight today felt real satisfying. Wouldn't mind another. You know it's only a matter of time before he comes after us again; why don't we go after him? It's easy enough to wait for Hate to come and fight, but we need to go out there and make Hate come to us." North nodded slowly, not dismissing Jack's proposition out of hand.

"Perhaps we will, my boy. We will talk more about this in the morning when the others are here." The two fell into silence, Jack watching the fire, and North watching Jack. He had confidence in the boy, a great deal of confidence. But three hundred years was a long time to be alone, and North knew that it had hurt him more than he would ever admit to. All North could really do was hope that it hadn't hurt him too much.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: You can't see them right now, but I'm crying tears of apology for being a lazy mofo and not updating until now. I am so so so so so so sorry and I promise I'll have the next chapter up within the week. It's the beginning of the climactic fight scene and it's also a puddle of angst and sadness and the bit where they're all surrounding him made me tear up. Which is rare, because I never do that with my own writing. Other people's? Hell yes. Anyways, I'll shut up now so y'all can read and *cough* review. And have I mentioned today that I love you all? ^-^**

* * *

After a few minutes (okay, maybe hours) of convincing a very nervous Tooth that it would _not _be the end of the world, the Guardians left the Pole for the first time in two days, chasing down Hate and his minions.

"We can't just sit around here much longer," Jack had argued to her. "It's better to go after him on our terms."

"He has a point there, sheila," Bunnymund backed up. "He's not expecting us to go after him, and with the last couple of losses he won't be nearly as strong. If we can get him now we might be able to cut him off before he gets back up to full power." Tooth bit her lip anxiously, but she was beginning to nod.

"That makes sense, I guess. I just don't want to put Jack in any more danger." The aforementioned winter spirit smiled somewhat bitterly.

"All the danger's already in me," he replied quietly. His face grew somber. "And we have to do something soon. I can feel _him _inside me, getting stronger." Finally, Tooth had been won over to their cause and now they were racing across Asia like the fire was behind them, not in front. It was quick and dirty, more of a hit-and-run than a battle, but it did the trick. It was enough to send Hate a message: we're coming for you, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Their next destination was somewhere in central Africa, up in the mountains, where the Firelings, perhaps having been warned of their presence, put up more of a fight. The scuffle was nearly over when Jack, overwhelmed by exhaustion and heat, let his guard down for just the slightest fraction of a second. But a fraction of a second was all that it took. Despite Bunny's boomerang and Tooth's shouted warning, a Fireling's arm clipped him on the back of the head, knocking the winter spirit unconscious.

They didn't waste any time sticking around to prolong the fight, jumping back into the sleigh and heading straight back to the Pole. North gave the boy a look-over, thoroughly relieved to find that he had sustained no more injuries from the glancing blow. His brow crinkled as he looked down at Jack. Something wasn't right. The boy was sweating- winter spirits didn't sweat. A Russian curse slipped from his mouth as he realized that Jack was having another fight with _him._ He sighed sorrowfully and took Jack's small hand in his own, determined to stay by his side until he woke up.

* * *

When Jack opened his eyes, he was surrounded by fire. "Oh no, not another night terror," he whispered to himself.

"Yes another, actually." He whirled around, knowing who he would see but wishing he could avoid it all the same. Not-Jack gave him a smile that was more of a leer than anything else, red eyes reflecting the flames. "You're in for the long haul this time, Jackie boy. I'm getting tired of waiting for you to crack."

"We'll you're just going to have to deal, then, _Jackie boy," _Jack retorted, icy blue eyes narrowing. He was getting sick and tired of being mocked by himself. "Because I'm not going to crack any time soon. In fact, I'm not planning to ever." Not-Jack smirked at him.

"So you say, yet here I am. I am what you should be and you know it. You've always known it, Jack. No one ever wanted you, not really. They only came for you when they were ordered to and they're only sticking around now out of gratitude. You are useless and worthless and you're a fool to deny it."

"Shut up!" Jack snarled, lunging at his twin. "You're wrong." It was a clumsy attack, easily deflected by Not-Jack.

"Oh, I'm wrong, am I? I'm only saying all the things you've ever said to yourself. I'm only telling the truth. You are nothing. All you were ever made to do was be alone and bring death with your beloved winter. You already know that I am you, Jack. I'm the part of you that has the guts to accept the truth." He grabbed Jack from the floor and threw him across the room. The winter spirit felt his back slam into the wall about the same time his head did, and he slumped to the floor, ears ringing.

"You're wrong," he whispered, but it was half-hearted at best. He was tired, and he was in pain, and worst of all he was beginning to believe that Not-Jack was right all along. His twin laughed coldly.

"You still don't see it, do you? You're still too much of a coward to accept that I've been right this whole time." He stalked over to where Jack lay on the floor, feeling faint from the heat. Was it possible to pass out when you were already dreaming? Red eyes locked with blue as Jack's doppelganger pulled him upright, shoving him back against the wall once more. "Maybe I just need to give you a little time to think on it, eh?" He punched Jack hard, snapping the spirit's head back against the wall.

Jack's vision blurred and his ears rang and all he could feel was pain as Not-Jack let go of him and he slid to the floor, sweating from the fire surrounding him. Apparently it was possible to pass out in a dream, because he could feel his mind sliding away from him like cold syrup, blinking blood out of his eyes, and then the blackness went blacker still.

* * *

North found himself having to hold the small winter spirit down as he began to thrash in the bed, muttering under his breath. The Russian leaned in closer to hear. "You're wrong, you're wrong," Jack muttered over and over. He suffered a particularly violent jerk, and North was shocked to see blood running down from a cut on the side of his head, a bruise already blossoming around it. Tears leaked out of Jack's closed eyes as he let out a bone-rattling sigh, seeming to curl inward on himself, and it was all North could do not to lose a few tears of his own.

"Oh, my boy, I am so sorry," he whispered. Behind him, though he hardly registered it, the other Guardians had come into the room and joined him at their youngest's bedside. Bunny went to Jack's other side while Sandy and Tooth each rested a hand on one of his feet. "I am sorry for everything. We should not have ignored you. We should not have left you alone for so long. We should not have let you believe that you were worthless."

"He's right, mate," Bunny picked up, gazing down at Jack. They all knew he probably couldn't hear them but they needed to say it anyways. "We screwed up big time and you were the one that took all the heat for it. We're the Guardians of Childhood but we failed you for three hundred years and I can't apologize enough for that. But you're one tough little anklebiter, and I know you'll get through this." It was Tooth's turn to speak.

"Yeah, you're tougher than all of us, you know. I know we let you down, and I know that you've been hurt a lot, for a long time, but I promise that's over now. That's all over now, and you will never be alone again. You made us into a family, Jack, you know that? We hardly spoke before you came along unless it was really necessary. But now we're closer than we've ever been before, and it's all because of you."

Sandy nodded fiercely. He was determined to get his piece in even though he couldn't say it. He made a circle of dream sand around all five Guardians, and inside the circle a heart formed, settling down on the winter spirit's chest. His message was clearer than if he had said it aloud: _we love you. _A bang in the main room put all of them on alert and, seizing their weapons, they ran to meet whoever it was.

"You remember that I said when I show up we're all in trouble? Well, here I am." Pitch was missing his usual smirk as he spoke. It had been replaced by dead seriousness and the Guardians all knew that, for want of a less blunt way to put it, the shit was ready to hit the fan. "My watch returned a few minutes ago. Hate has gathered all his Firelings and they're headed this way. They mean to burn this place to the ground, and all of us with it."

"Let them come," North growled, the warrior in him rising up to the surface. "We will give them the biggest fight they will ever have." The next few minutes were spent preparing the Pole for battle. All the yetis were armed with smaller versions of North's water cannon and all the elves were evacuated down to the basement. They were eager to help, but there was nothing they could do. They would only get in the way or get hurt. Soon, a glow on the horizon and melting snow announced their enemy's presence.

"You guys ready to roll?" Bunny asked. He was met with a flurry of nods. He breathed in deeply, focusing himself and pushing down the anxiety that ever he felt before a battle. The Pookas were a warrior race, and he had been one of the best among them, but even they grew wary before a fight.

Behind him, Pitch waved a hand wordlessly, summoning up a squadron of Nightmares, who bayed and shook their manes, thriving off of the fear generated by the impending conflict. The Nightmare King himself felt no anxiety at all. He remembered, long ago in the Golden Age, leading armies into conflict when he had been a general. In a rare moment, he let those thoughts overwhelm him, the memories of Kozmotis, not Pitch. _"Too many memories of being human?" _Hate's taunt from their fight the other day came back to him and he gave a wry smile to himself. Devil be damned, the old man had been exactly right.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Hello again, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the angst-fest. I hope you enjoy it. Next chapter you'll get A LOT of fighting, so yeah. I'm having fun writing that. Oh, and also, random idea time: I'm actually turning that story Jack tells in the memory into a one-shot of its own, so y'all should be on the lookout for that. And, as per usual, enjoy and *cough* review. ^-^**

* * *

Jack didn't know it was possible to have a night terror during a night terror. The darkness swirled around him, locking him in place as the worst moments of his life played back in his head. Every isolated day, every moment someone walked through him or ignored him. Being alone, for three hundred long and painful years until somewhere along the way he had realized (or had he decided?) that he was the problem, not everything else. All the pain and self-hatred poured into him as he lay helpless in the dark with blood running down the side of his face, until he just couldn't take it anymore.

All he could think of was how horribly disappointed he was with himself. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't lose, that no matter what it cost he would not give in to Hate's magic. He had been so determined. But then the rubber finally met the road and now look at him- he was giving up. Now he wasn't just letting himself down. Now he was letting down the other Guardians, the ones who had believed in him so fervently this whole time- really believed that he could make it through to the other end. He laughed bitterly as his dark thoughts reminded him of a saying he'd heard some older kids use when their parents weren't around to listen: "don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash."

That was exactly what he'd gone and done, and now he was paying the price for his arrogance and stupidity, wasn't he? He'd thought he could fight it, but he was wrong. He just couldn't. Not anymore. With a sigh, he quit struggling against the darkness and lay still. He could feel it rush into him, felt as his eyes turned violet and got closer and closer to being red and his last thought before he gave up entirely was so, so simple: _I'm sorry._

* * *

If you were to look at Santoff Claussen at that exact moment, it wouldn't be much of a stretch to guess that it had recently exploded. And then you would have seen the fighters and realized that it was only in the process. No one quite knew who had thrown the first punch, but it had started, and soon enough their roughly formed battle lines had turned into individual melees. Bunny hurled his boomerang, knocking a Fireling over sideways before it could hit Tooth, when there was a sudden whump behind him. He spun around to see a Fireling be swallowed by black sand as a couple of Nightmares smothered it.

Since they still didn't have a handle on how to kill them, the Guardians decided that the best way to deal with them was to chuck them into the blowing snow outside and hope that kept them down long enough for them to finish the battle. The Nightmares that had saved Bunny hustled the Fireling out the window and quickly reformed. Across the room, Pitch was fending off none other than Hate himself, while North covered the tall man with his water cannon. Sandy had posted himself at the edge of the hallway, using his sand whips to fend off any Fireling that might mistakenly think it was a good idea to try and get at Jack while the confused battle was going on. In the hallway Bunny could hear the yetis dealing with the few of them that had made it through Sandy's defenses somehow.

Nightmares and Firelings collided all around them with muted thuds. For some reason, the Nightmare's sand was interacting with the Fireling's flames and the result was a thick haze of blackish-gray smoke that hung low in the air around them, obscuring their vision. That was actually a good thing for the Guardians though- the Firelings had no help seeing through the haze, but they could clearly be seen themselves, sparking in the encroaching darkness like the living torches that they were. It occurred to Bunny that the darkness would actually be an asset to them. His eyes shot to the roof, tracing their way to the electrical wire that powered all the lights in the room. Once he spotted it, he threw himself upwards in one bounding leap, hitting the platform with ease.

"Heads up guys!" he called down below him, "It's about to get a little hard to see!" He swung his boomerang sharply, slicing a clean cut through the wire and plunging the main room into semi-darkness. Now, unlike the past few minutes, the advantage was with the Guardians. Their targets were presenting themselves, and forced the Firelings to search for them through their own glare. But most importantly, the guy who _controlled _all that darkness was currently casting his lot in with them.

Down on the floor, it took the others only a few moments to realize what Bunny's plan had been. Pitch gave Hate a wolfish smile and snapped once. Instantly, ropes of darkness wrapped themselves around every single one of the Firelings, bundling them up like flies caught in a spider's web. He knew it wouldn't hold them forever, but it would do the trick long enough for them to catch their breath. He hoped.

* * *

_Someone was walking through him again. He didn't know who and quite frankly, he didn't care to at this point. It had been like this for so long, so many decades, that he just couldn't care anymore. _

_He'd gotten into a fight with another spirit, just like he always did. He remembered the first time another spirit saw him- he'd been so overjoyed that it had snowed for a whole week, but all that had done was put them off him. Now he was nothing more than a useless troublemaker. _

_He was fighting again, with some great tall rabbit that was yelling about him ruining Easter. But that was an accident, he wanted to yell. I never meant for this to happen. I never meant for any of this to happen…_

_You're the problem, Jack, not anyone else. You're nothing but a disturbance, a distraction. Pitch was right: you really _do _make a mess everywhere you go. No one's going to care when you're gone anyways, so why don't you just go? GO!_

Jack was trapped inside of himself, all his worst memories and most regrettable moments coming back to fill the forefront of his mind. He wondered vaguely if this was his fate, if he was going to spend the rest of eternity locked away within himself while a white-haired boy with red eyes and a bitter smile wandered the earth in his place. A fitting end to a desperate and lonely life. He curled inward on himself and tried to no avail to stop the tears leaking from his eyes. Even in surrender, he was suffering. The memories echoed in his head, angry voices yelling hurtful words. There were so many of them he could hardly tell them apart; the loudest voice of all, though, was his own.

Then he heard something different, voices that weren't harsh and didn't want to cause him pain. He strained to hear what they were saying, catching snippets of their words. It was like trying to hear a bird singing in the middle of a hurricane.

_"I am sorry for everything…" _

_"You're one tough little anklebiter, and I know you'll get through this…" _

_"You will never be alone again…" _

_"We love you…" _

He caught the words and held fast to them as the spark that he'd thought was dead flickered again. He remembered more words, but these ones were from even longer ago. _"Jack, you're the best brother ever! I'll always love you, no matter what." _He knew that voice. He _knew _that voice. It was his sister, his little Emma. As the darkness of his spirit past swirled around him, he remembered the light of his human life.

_He was watching his little sister play with the other kids as he lounged against a tree, weary from a long day of helping his dad with the sheep. Before he knew it, his brown eyes closed and he was asleep where he sat, woken several hours later with a nudge. "Jackie," Emma whispered at him, "I know you're tired but we need to go home. It's cold." He realized that he must have been sitting there for hours and jumped up. _

_"Emma, why didn't you wake me?" he asked. "You must have been freezing your backside off out here waiting for me to wake up." His little sister looked at him with her big, equally dark brown, eyes. _

_"You were tired Jackie," she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I wanted to let you sleep." Jack smiled down at her, swinging the small girl over his shoulder and dancing down the trail to their cabin. She shrieked with laughter, and he felt his heart swell in his chest with love._

As the memory faded, Jack realized that the darkness had faded as well. Not by a lot, but it was enough to notice. The little spark grew a little bigger, and his eyes began to be rimmed with violet again. Another memory rose to the surface, unbidden but not unwelcome.

_"HAPPY BIRTHDAY JACKIE!" Jack shot upright with a jolt, looking around like a deer caught in the light of a lamp before he realized that his abrupt awakening was only his sister. She beamed up at him, showing off her missing front tooth with obvious pride. He cracked a grin at her and lifted her onto the mattress. _

_"Thank you very much Emmy," he returned, copying her nickname for him. "I'm a teenager now! So, what did you get from the tooth fairy in exchange for that wonderful tooth you left for her?" Emma's smile grew broader as she fished in the pocket of her dress before pulling out a piece of taffy from the village's general store._

_"Well, she gave me a whole nickel!" Jack arched an eyebrow playfully._

_"That doesn't look like a nickel to me, little one." She giggled._

_"Of course it's not, silly. I spent the nickel on the taffy when mama and I went to town this morning. It's for you. For your birthday." _

_"But that was your tooth fairy money," Jack protested. "You don't have to spend it on me, you can spend it however you want." Emma nodded._

_"I know. And I wanted to spend it on you." Jack hugged his sister to him tightly for a long while before he let her go. It occurred to him then that there was nothing on earth that he loved more than her. _

More memories like that one rose up from the ashes as the darkness and hatred around him grew weaker and weaker and his eyes crept ever closer back to blue. Some sixth sense told him that he was near a revelation, that all he needed to do was think and it would come to him. His desire to fight Not-Jack, to fight that part of himself that wanted the darkness to wrap around him like a shroud and never let him go, had gone from a spark to a bonfire. One last memory came to him…

_"Tell us a story!" _

_"Yeah Jackson, tell us a really good story, like the ones from the Bible!" Jack smiled at the cluster of children around him as they sat by the fire. It seemed like every kid from the village had gathered around him, wanting to hear the trickster's stories again and again. _

_"Okay," he told them with mock-resignation, "one story and then it's bed time for the lot of you. Once, a long time ago, there were two men walking on a road. One was small and weak and only had his wits to help him win a fight. The other one, though, he was more of a giant than a man. He was tall and broad and rumor had it that he'd once torn a tree right up from the ground!" The kids gasped, openmouthed, and he smiled at them again._

_"Well, the small man was very kind and gentle and had never harmed a soul in his life. But the large man, he was loud and rude and arrogant. He thought that he was better than everyone else and that he had the strength to prove it. The large man was walking one way along the road and the small man was walking the other, but there was a problem: the road was narrow, and there were trees on one side and a sheer cliff on the other. Two people could _never _pass at the same time!"_

_"So what happened?" one of the smaller children called out. Jack looked at him with mock severity._

_"Well, I'll tell you what happened if you let me! The small man and the large man met on the road, but neither of them knew which one should go first. Now the large man, remember, he thought he was better than everyone. There was no question in his mind- _he_ should go first! So he didn't even stop to ask, he just reached out and pushed the smaller man into the trees like he was opening a door. That was mean of him, wasn't it?" he asked. The kids nodded and gave a chorus of yeahs. _

_"Well, it sure was, and the smaller man was really very angry at him as he straightened himself up. 'You rude, arrogant man,' he muttered to himself. 'One day you're going to need help from somebody, and _I'm_ certainly not going to give it!' Well as it turned out, he was right. Not thirty feet down the road, the large man slipped on a rock and fell off the cliff!" The children gasped at him._

_"Well, he just barely caught himself and only his great strength saved him from falling to his death. He couldn't hold on forever, though, so he started yelling. 'Help me! Help me!' he hollered as loud as he could. Now the only person around to hear him was the small man. But what had the small man just said to himself?" The kids consulted with one another briefly. _

_"That he wasn't gonna help the big man no matter what," their spokesman announced solemnly. Jack nodded somberly._

_"That's exactly what he said, Noah. So the small man heard the large man yelling from the cliff and do you know what he did?" The children all shook their head. "Well, the small man had a choice, you see. There were two things he could do: he could do exactly as he'd said, and just go on his way and leave the large man to fall. After all, why should he risk his neck to help? He didn't know the large man, all he'd ever done was be rude to him and push him off to the side of the road. Or, he could help him anyway. Well, after a few seconds he grabbed a rope out of his pack and he strung it around a tree and he helped the large man get back to safety again. Do any of you know why he did that?" The kids consulted again before their little spokesman turned back to him and shook his head. _

_"Well, I'll tell you why he helped the large man: forgiveness. Do you remember that part in the Bible where Peter asks Jesus how many times he should forgive someone who sins against him?" The kids all nodded. They'd heard that story many times in church. "Well, do you remember what Jesus said to him?" Again, more nods and then a chorus of voices recited the verse. _

_"'Not seven times, but seventy times seven times'." Jack nodded proudly._

_"Exactly. The small man had to choose- would he let his anger and bitterness at the large man win out, or would he forgive him even though the large man had done him wrong? Well, the small man chose to forgive, just like Jesus said to do. And because of that, the large man lived and the small man saved a life. Now, I don't know about you, but I like that ending _much _better than the other one." They all giggled, and Jack shooed the kids away from the fire and towards their waiting parents. "Now go one little ones. It's time for bed."_

The long memory faded into the background and now he knew instinctively what he had to do: he had reached the moment of truth.

* * *

**Just FYI, the Bible verse is Matthew 18:22. ^-^**


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